Everlast
by Cometas Por El Cielo
Summary: [To undergo edit when completed; ongoing] Ever Abernathy has won the 72nd Hunger Games and is now back in District 12. She soon learns that surviving the Hunger Games isn't all it's cracked up to be. Can she handle life after the arena?
1. Renaissance

A/N: Ah! Yay! The sequel to DOAV, I'm excited! This is my first time writing a sequel, so bear with me here! The story starts just before Ever's Victory Tour. For this story, I am going to try to make most titles be interesting and uncommon or obscure words.

* * *

**Renaissance  
**

* * *

Renaissance- literally means rebirth, new beginning

* * *

_Ever..._

_The sun is shining as I step off the train. After a dreary night on the tribute train I am finally home. I wasn't expecting anybody to welcome me home, but boy was I wrong! Standing in front of me is a rather large crowd. I recognize a few of thefaces. Namely, Uncle Rexton, Ziva, Kenton Rainriver, Damien Gilead and surprisingly, Uncle Raphael. They all embrace me one at a time- save Uncle Ralphie of course. He just looks me in the eye and murmurs, "Congratulations."_

_Kenton is the last to give me a hug. "Ever!" He exclaims._

_"Kenton!" I grin._

_He hugs me a beat longer than he should, but I don't care. I'm just glad to be home._

_"Kenton?" I ask._

_"Yeah, Ever?"_

_"Where's Josh and Ivy?"_

_He bites his lip. "Their parents made them stay home today...uh, it's a bit cold outside for their, er, liking."_

_"Oh..." I say slowly._

"Elizabeth, get up!" Screams Tanith Rudo. I am pulled from my mental flashbacks.

I groan and throw the covers off me and scream, "Go away!" Even though I already threw the covers off of me and I am walking toward my closet. I can feel Tanith rolling her eyes on the other side of the door. I grin, knowing I am giving her grey hairs. I throw on a pair of shorts and a grey hoodie. Cinna will make sure I am wearing something more appropriate in a few hours anyway, so why bother?

"Finally!" Tanith huffs as I run past her barefooted and hop onto the banister to slide down.

I sniff the air when my feet meet the cold tile floor. "Is something cooking?" I walk into the kitchen and see Daddy standing by the stove. Sober. Smiling. Making pancakes. I rub my eyes with my fists to make sure I am not going insane. "Daddy?"

He grins, "You were up late, and I was hungry."

I laugh, "Let me take over."

"No, this is also an apology for what the prep team is about to do to you."

"You make it sound like they are going to violate me." I say, stealing some pancake batter.

He shakes his head, "Not only that, but the whole Victory Tour."

I smile halfheartedly, "It can't be that bad. Besides, District 11 is first! I get to hang out with Uncle Chaff, Miranda and Kieran for a day and a half."

Daddy smiles. "Speaking of Chaff, he wants to know what you want for your birthday?"

"My birthday?"

Daddy stares at me like I am on morphling. "Ever! Your thirteenth birthday is in fifteen days!"

"Whoa. You're keeping track?"

"Of course I am- don't tell me you forgot about your own birthday."

"No." I lie. In all honesty, I did. What with all of this victor business recently I haven't been able to _breathe_. "Can I go back to bed 'till Cinna gets here?"

"Sure, why not. I should probably start getting un-sober so I don't kill your prep team for you."

"Thanks!" I exclaim before yawning and running back upstairs. I didn't ask to go to sleep so I could _actually _sleep. I just needed to get away from everybody for a few minutes. Later today, I will leave for the Victory Tour and will have to relieve the Games. Ugh! I hate this, I hate this, I hate this!

"Elizabeth your prep team is here!"

I sigh and head downstairs. I have decided to go by my middle name, Elizabeth when dealing with Capitol people. I let out a small groan of irritation when I see Flavius, Venia and Octavia. The three go through their normal routine. I am relieved when they call Cinna in. "Cinna!" I exclaim, running to hug him.

He hugs me back and apologizes for setting the prep team on me this early. I giggle and tell him it's alright. He smiles and pulls something from a bag. "I think you'll love this."

I nod and hurry to put it on. The dress kind of resembles my chariot outfit. It is black underneath, but the part that everyone can see looks like a nice warm little fire when I move. "Whoa...how did you do that?" I ask.

He just grins.

"I take it you're not telling?"

"Not a chance, Ever."

"Assh-"

"Hurry, hurry, hurry!" Tanith says, barging into the room.

I scream, "What if I were naked just now! Is that something you would have wanted to see?"

Tanith rolls her eyes, "But you _weren't_!"

"I _could _have been!"

"But you weren't!"

"I could have been naked! Then what would you have done?"

"I-I-I-I-" Tanith sputters.

"_I _for one would feel so violated. For all I know your a pedofrea-"

"Ever Elizabeth Abernathy, that is _enough_ fighting with Tanith!" Daddy yells, suddenly showing up too.

"Yes Daddy."

He grins childishly. "That's _my _job." Tanith rolls her eyes and calls Daddy names I'm not allowed to repeat under her breath. The Capitol cameras flash non-stop until we all reach the train station. Despite the fact that I know two of 11's victors, I am nervous and I am terrified. Who knows how the other victors will act?

First stop, District 11.

At least this hellish Victory Tour will be over within a month or so. Then it's a few months of relaxation...and then it will be time for me to mentor two kids alongside my father and watch them die.

Damn, I just love being a victor. Please tell me everybody caught my sarcasm!

"Elizabeth, let's go!" Tanith yells.

I wave to the Capitol cameras, following my father's instructions of playing the crowd.

* * *

**_This was mainly just a chapter to get the story started. Next chapter, the actual Victory Tour :P_  
**


	2. Acrimony

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own The Hunger Games. It belongs to Suzanne Collins. I am simply playing with her characters,

Not all chapters will start with flashbacks, but the first few will.

* * *

**Acrimony**

* * *

ac·ri·mo·ny [ak-ruh-moh-nee]

–noun

sharpness, harshness, or bitterness of nature, speech, disposition,etc.: The speaker attacked him with great acrimony.

* * *

_Ever..._

_5½ months earlier_

_"Good morning Peeta!" I say as I walk into the bakery. Peeta Mellark, youngest son of Ajax and Philomena Mellark is in the corner sweeping. Peeta and I aren't friends, but be we know each other well enough to say 'hello.'_

_He looks up and smiles and leaves the broom to stand up in the corner. "Good morning to you too Ever. I haven't seen you since you got back...how long ago is that now?"_

_"Three weeks." I answer._

_"Right. What can I get for you?" He asks, referring to something at the bakery._

_"I was sent to get bread." I say. "Er, three- four loaves?" I plan to stop by the Hopeflame's house and bring a loaf by for them. Josh and Ivy haven't welcomed me home yet which is odd, considering they're two of mt best friends. Peeta hands me four fresh-baked loaves in a paper bag. I thank him and turn to leave. Someone bumps into me._

_"Oh I', so sor- Ever!"_

_"Ivy!" I exclaim happily, giving her a hug. I am expecting her to return it...she doesn't. Instead, she tenses up then finally pulls away. "What's wrong Ives?" __She shakily bends down to pick up the tiny coin purse she dropped. I hear about four or five coins jingle. My father and I now have more than enough money than we know what to do with, so I do what I always do and reach into my pocket to pull out about eight coins. I extend my hand to Ivy. "Here, take these." I grin._

_She looks down sadly. _That's odd, _I think. _She never is ashamed of me lending her money. _"I-that's a kind gesture, but I can't accept help from you anymore."_

_I grin wider, "Why not? Daddy and I have twice the money we had before and we don't need it."_

_Ivy is silent for a moment before saying, "Nevertheless, I can't accept your help."_

_"Ives, we're best friends. Just take it." I say assuringly._

_"We're not friends anymore. I'm sorry."_

_My face falls. "Ives what do you mean?"_

_Under breath she says, "Mother said..." But I hear her anyway. Aloud she says, "I could never be friends with a monster like you, you killer."_

_I want to burst into tears right here, and I do. "But- but Ivy-" I reach for her arm._

_"Get away from me!" She hisses._

_I give her a hurt and confused look before running from the bakery._

"...oh and I thought you should know Tanith and I are getting married after the Victory Tour and I'm sending you to District 9 with Raewyn to learn to be a-"

I choke on my drink. It's something called soda. "What!"

Daddy smirks, "Now that I've got your attention- Tanith wants to talk to you."

"About?" I mumble.

"Your talent of course silly!" Tanith exclaims with a bubbly voice. I groan in dislike, causing Tanith to put her hands on her hips. "Come on Elizabeth you have to have gone through that big list I made up!"

I roll my eyes. "I _did_."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I _have _my talent...s."

"_And_?"

"And I don't want to share it with the Capitol."

"Well what is it?"

I glare, "What makes you think I'll tell _you_?"

"Ever Elizabeth-!" Warns my father.

"What's your talent? Are you sure you went over that list? It was quite extensive."

I scowl. Of course I went over that list, none of them sparked my interest:

Gardening.

Flower Arranging.

Knitting-

What am I, sixty? The only thing I am good at is the same thing my mom always liked to do. Music. Uncle Rexton gave me a guitar for my tenth birthday and has been giving me lessons since then. After I won the Games, he has been taking more extra time to teach me. I found some of the songs Mom had written and a few that she had found from back before the Panem even existed- from the 'American' civilization and have been learning to play and sing those. I don't have an angels voice, but Uncle Rexton says I have a unique voice.

But that talent is personal. I only work on it with Uncle Rexton and once- but only once- I allowed Kenton to hear me sing one of my mother's songs.

"What is your talent?" Tanith repeats impatiently.

"I sing and I play to guitar and am going to learn the piano."

She clasps her hands together in delight. "Wonderful!"

I stand up and shout acrimoniously. "But I don't _want_ to sing for the Capitol!"

"Why n-"

"Tanith, just drop it!" Hisses my father.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

I can't believe Ever's outburst- Tanith _works _for the Capitol! She could have just risked her life right then! I really don't know what I am going to do with her...maybe I should have kidnapped that one friend of hers and took him with us. What's his name? Damien! No, no it's the other one...Kenton! Right, Kenton Rainriver. He'd have kept her calm.

Tanith taps me on the shoulder. "We're stopping in District 11 in five minutes."

"Mm hm." I say, bored. I hope Chaff is in the mood for a few drinks.


	3. Coterie

I will make some of the District stops take up two chapters. Districts 11, 9 and 3 will and possibly 4. What the mayor does here in District 11 will be the same thing the mayors will do in each district. Just not quite as over-exaggerating.

* * *

**Coterie**

* * *

co·te·rie [koh-tuh-ree]

–noun

1. a group of people who associate closely.

2. an exclusive group; clique.

* * *

_Ever..._

The train comes to a halt at the District 11 station. Peacekeepers escort us to the Justice Building where all of the living victors from 11 and a feast will be. But before I get to see the victors *cough* Chaff and Seeder *cough* *cough*, I have to give a victory speech.

I can feel the animosity from the crowd as I walk to the stage. Most of the Victors are sending me just as intense hate vibes. The hate isn't as bad as it could be. The day I left the Capitol, Finnick, Chaff, Raewyn and Beetee all said that most of Panem was routing for me towards the end there. The hate I am getting from the District 11 crowd is the customary my-child-died-and-you-got-to-live-why? hate. It would be worse if I wasn't so young or if I was a Career.

My eyes soon find the families of the dead tributes- Elina Herb and Knox Trader. I watched both of them die less than a year ago. Elina was only two years older than me. Knox Trader was considerably older, but still my peer. It isn't hard to find their families. Pale-skinned people are a minority in District 11.

Soon after my eyes find the families, they lock with a small pair of chocolate eyes. I see a pale-skinned girl with dirty blond hair. She must be Elina's sister. I give her a quick, apologetic look before I realize that the Capitol is watching and I am not supposed to show emotion.

I take a deep breath and begin my speech:

"I wish I had a lot to say about your tributes. I apologize for the fact that I don't. The truth is, I didn't really know them and didn't have any direct interaction with them...aside from the time I dropped my napkin at dinner one night and Knox bent down to pick it up fro me." I pause and look at his family. "That was something a real gentleman would do." I turn my attention back to the crowd whose animosity is dying down at this point. "I feel honored to have had the chance to meet Knox and Elina. Thank you."

I try to hide my face as I walk off the stage. It may just be paranoia, but I am sure a number of victors are still channeling thier megative emotions to me.

"That wasn't too bad was it?" I ask Daddy who warned me not to get too emotional.

"That was perfect. I saw the girl's sister and the boy's whole family smile. You made them feel like their child wasn't disposable...that's what I would have wanted if you- if you-" He can't finish the sentence.

I hug him. "It's okay Daddy." I can tell the memories from having to watch me are still fresh in his mind. So is the terror. He sometimes has nightmares about them. Combined with the ones from his and Mom's Games it is terrifying to watch. I sometimes have nightmares about my Games too but surprisingly, not as often as my father. They have, however, been getting worse lately. I think it is just because of this stupid Victory Tour.

"The victors and mayor are ready." A Peacekeeper says gruffly. I nod and follow him into the Justice building, Daddy and Tanith following close behind me.

I meet the victors one-by-one. As per tradition, they introduce themselves by their first and last name along with which Games they won. Most of them scare the life out of me; aside from Chaff Baakari victor of the 46th Games, Seeder Keller victor of the 33rd Games and Winnow Zareb victor of the 58th Games.

Seeder greets me with a hug and a soft kiss on the cheek. "It's great to see you sweetie."

"You too, Seeder." I say honestly, flashing her an innocent grin.

I shake everyone else's hands until I get to Winnow. I have not met her before, but she greets me with a warm smile and a hug. I feel weird for a moment, then decide I like hugs and hug her back. "Pleasure meeting you!"

"You too."

Chaff grins a goofy grin that makes me laugh. He puts on a serious face and hugs me. Right as I go to hug him back, he uses his good arm to pick me up and hold me there upside-down. My father does nothing but guffaw right along with him.

"Ha ha, very funny Uncle Chaff...now put me down!"

He laughs, "Or what?"

"Or else!"

"Or else what?"

"You're gonna get it!"

He pretends to think for a moment. "What exactly is..._it_?'

"You know..._it_. That's what _it _is."

He just keeps laughing. "I'm not afraid of you, girlie."

I fold my arms across my chest.

"I would gladly drop you on your head right now if it weren't for the fact that you can't spare any extra brain cells." He smirks.

"Oh that's it!" I exclaim. I kick my legs wildly, aiming for his face. He puts me down after I kick him in the nose and teeth.

"Ow...that kind of hurt." He notes.

"Don't mock my intelligence next time." I say just as the mayor announces that it is time for the feast. Daddy and Chaff sit next to each other like always. I swear, they are just like teenage girls...or maybe they're gay lovers. Oh my gosh! Maybe I should start calling Chaff 'Papa.' Nah, I'll get a million dumbass alerts to the back of the head.

I am served red wine. I look at Daddy and Chaff funny. My face reads, 'am I supposed to drink this?'

They both just laugh through their noses. "It is polite and customary to drink a glass at each district. At least drink enough so the glass is noticeably less full." Winnow explains. Seeder nods quickly.

"Oh...okay." I feel like an idiot. _Oh well. _I shrug and take a sip of the wine. I let the taste set in and I hate it, I make a face.

"It's an acquired taste." Chaff says.

"_You'd _know all about that, wouldn't you?" I joke. He grins and motions for me to take another sip.

"You'll offend some of these other pro- child drinking freaks."

I nod and take another sip and find it just as disgusting. I take a larger sip and then a few more normal sips. _Okay maybe it isn't that bad. It's pretty good. _But I promised Daddy I wouldn't become an alcoholic like him, so I don't ask for more wine...besides, it is still about one fourth full.

Some of the victors brought their children to the feast today. Most do. Many of the children are older or younger than me and a few are my age. Despite this fact, they all avoid me like the Plague like their parents. Except for two. Miranda and Kieran Baakari; yes, they belong to Chaff. Miranda Baakari just turned 16 two days ago. Kieran Baakari is my age, just a few months older. He turned 13 the same day Miranda turned 16. They both have dark skin and eyes like Chaff and are tall kids.

Miranda gives me a bone-crushing hug when she sees me. "Ever! Oh my gosh! I was sooo worried when your name got chosen, but it's okay now!"

I hug my un-biological sister back. "Uh, Randa?"

"Huh?"

"Can I breathe now?"

"Oh! Of course, sorry." She says, letting go.

"Oh, it's okay...where's Kieran?"

* * *

_Haymitch..._

I almost forgot about how sweet it was to watch Miranda and Ever interact. Kieran and Ever? They love each other to death as well but it isn't quite so sweet. It's more like...well...

"Oh, it's okay...where's Kieran?" Ever asks in response to Miranda's apology.

"Some one say my name?"

Ever jumps a mile and knocks over her glass of wine. Kieran had gotten right next to her ear and spoke. A millisecond later Ever turns around and punches him in the chest. Some of the victors glare at her but they do not react when they see Chaff is laughing.

"This is normal for them." Seeder explains to Winnow Zareb who passes it on to the two victors nearest them.

"I can't hit girls..." Kieran says about Ever's punch.

Ever scoffs, "Since when was I a _girl _to you?"

Kieran doesn't say anything. Instead, he pretends not to have heard her and sits beside her on her left while Miranda takes her right.

After about ten minutes of useless chit chat, Mayor Bond clinks a fork against a wine glass. "Good evening!"

"Good evening!" Choruses the whole lot of us.

"I would just like to offer some words of welcome to the youngest and newest victor, Ever Abernathy- or is it Elizabeth Abernathy?" He says, looking to Ever for the last part.

Ever smiles at him, "It is Ever, sir. I only go by Elizabeth when dealing with official Capitol business."

Mayor Bond smiles at her, then me. "You have taught her well Mr. Abernathy." He turns back to her and asks, "Why do you go by your middle name? I am assuming that s what it is."

Ever shrugs with a little girl smile. She is playing it up for the cameras, victors, mayor and Peacekeepers. Just like I told her to. "It just sounds more proper. I mean, would you hire someone named Ever or someone named Elizabeth? I think it kind of gives off a more serious vibe than my actual first name...though I love my first name."

The mayor nods to show he understands. "Then in that case-" Mayor Bond raises his wine glass. His wife and five sons follow suit. Then the rest of the District 11 victors follow them. The victor children are next. Tanith and myself are the last to raise our glasses. "We raise our glasses to the brave, lovely and intelligent Ever Abernathy. To Ever!"

"To Ever!" Repeats the mayor's family, the victors, their children and Tanith.

"To Ever." I say after them, looking at her lovingly. She blushes slightly from her natural humility at the mayor's toast and possibly embarrassment from my parental moment.

I do miss the days when she was a small child, but I can't think of anything better than this moment right now.

* * *

hahaha prepare for MUCH Haymitch-sappiness later on in this story!


	4. Inimical

Another Chapter, yay!

* * *

**Inimical**

* * *

in·im·i·cal [ih-nim-i-kuhl]

–adjective

1. adverse in tendency or effect; unfavorable; harmful: _a climate inimical to health_

2. unfriendly; hostile: _a cold, inimical gaze_

* * *

_Ever..._

I excuse myself to the bathroom after Mayor Bond and the victors raise their glasses to me. I leave for two reasons:

1. I really have to pee.

2. I don't know how much longer I can sit there and pretend like they don't all want to strangle me.

The layout of this Justice Building is just like the layout of the one back in 12.

When I am sure I'm alone in the bathroom I allow myself to slide down the side of the stall and just sit there on the floor. I fee like crying, but I don't. It isn't worth crying about. If only I had something glass. I could break it.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

"I'm going to go check on her."

I eye Seeder. "She just went to use the bathroom."

She gives me the Haymitch-you're-an-idiot look. "Did you not notice her body language as she left?"

"Uh..."

"What about you Chaff?"

"Huh?"

"Kieran?"

"Dad! I didn't do it this time!"

Seeder rolls her eyes and Miranda joins her. "Miranda, want to go with me?"

Miranda nods and follows Seeder. When they are out of earshot I turn to Chaff and ask, "What _body _language? I didn't see anything."

"Neither did I, man...just let Seeder and Miranda be the paranoid girlies they are."

Kieran laughs, "Not a very nice thing to say about 'Daddy's little angel' huh, Dad?"

Chaff gets defensive, "Uh, I don't call your sister that."

"Not out loud, but you think it."

I smile. "Just admit it, man."

* * *

_Ever..._

I am sure I'm alone. One hundred per cent sure of it.

At least until the bathroom door opens. "Evie? You in here?"

I grin, recognizing Miranda Baakari's voice. I unlock the door to the stall whose floor I am sitting on and it swings open. "Yep. Oh! Hi Seeder."

Seeder smiles a small smile before looking concerned. "Are you okay sweetie?"

"Yeah." I lie.

Miranda and Seeder both cross their arms. "No lying." They say in unison.

"Okay that was creepy."

"Tell the truth." Again. In unison.

I sigh and tell them about how from the moment I set foot in District 11 I have gotten dirty looks from everybody. I thought being humble during my speech and acknowledging their tributes would tone down the animosity but didn't. I thought maybe acting much more proper than I thought I could ever possibly achieve would make the victors accept me as their equal, or at least a person, but didn't. "I don't get it...is there something in my teeth or what?"

Seeder nods understandingly. "They're just being bitter. Trust me, when some of them run into you in the Capitol during these upcoming Games they will be nicer."

"But what if they aren't? Why are they even so mean? It's not _my _fault your tributes didn't win! _I _didn't kill them!" I instantly shut my mouth. Just because Seeder loves me doesn't mean that I can just say crap about her tributes without consequences.

She doesn't get angry. She just smiles. "I know what that's like, believe me. I still have a grudge against District 9 because of how cruel thier victors were to me when I won."

I giggle. Raewyn is from District 9. "Really?"

"Really. It gets better."

"So what do you say you come back with us?" Miranda asks, offering me her hand. I take it and she helps me up. The three of us walk back into the dining hall together. Most of the victors are still giving me the most inimical glances, but the weight of them has seemed to have lessened. I go through the rest of the feast without worry.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

We stay the night in the Justice Building as per tradition. I have had a little too much to drink, as Ever and Tanith have to lead me to a room. If I wasn't so drunk right now, I would be completely embarrassed. UGh, but give me a break! I have been (mostly) sober since Ever won the Games. It's _okay _to get drunk every once in a while...right?

I wake up the next morning with a hangover and I don't even say goodbye to anybody but Chaff, Seeder and Winnow.

Ever smirks when the train starts moving. "Repeat after me- I will not drink, I cannot drink, I must not drink!"

"I will drink...I can...I must."


	5. Solicitous

Not the best chapter, but until we get to District 9, 3 and the Careers they will be a little slow

This one is REALLY short. It is mostly to prove I am still alive. District 9 will be MUCH longer though :)

AND there will be Haymitch sappiness to look forward too, starting in District 9, yays!

* * *

**Solicitous  
**

* * *

so·lic·i·tous [suh-lis-i-tuhs]

–adjective

1.

anxious or concerned (usually fol. by about, for, etc., or aclause): _solicitous about a person's health._

2.

anxiously desirous: _solicitous of the esteem of others._

3.

eager (usually fol. by an infinitive): _He was always solicitous to please._

4.

careful or particular: _a solicitous housekeeper._

* * *

_Ever..._

I am dreading the visit to District 10 very much. My ally Zayna Code killed their male tribute when he tried to kill me. I've no clue who killed their female, but odds are it was Slate or Robbie.

No matter.

Their boy died because of my ally. I am the victor so naturally, the anger, the hate, the rage and the jealously falls on me. _The fabulous life of a victor._I think to myself. Daddy still has a terrible hangover and is drinking even _more _to make it go away. "It's not going to help." I tell him. He just rolls his eyes and takes another sip. I guess I can't blame him, I mean, he stayed mostly sober in the months since I've won. I guess one drunk day can't hurt.

Haha yeah right Ever.

I bury my face in my hands and close my eyes for a nap. It doesn't last long because no more than ten minutes later Tanith is violently shaking me awake. "Hurry hurry hurry!" I scowl but follow her off the train. I look over at my father. He's a little buzzed, but he's sober enough to walk. That's good I suppose.

Peacekeepers lead us to the stage in front of the Justice building. Before I walk on, my father claps his hand of my shoulder. "Remember sweetheart. Smile and pretend you wish it was you instead of their tributes."

"Right." I say. If only he knew how I really feel. I _do _wish it was me and not their tributes who left the arena in a hovercraft. Life as a victor is supposed to be fabulous, but it really isn't so far. I walk up to the stage and the crowd cheers. Cinna, Tanith and my father stay at the bottom to watch. I take a deep breath and begin my speech, trying to comic approach this time:

"Hey District 10...thanks for not throwing tomatoes and sharp pointy things at me." I get a labored laugh. "Hm, tough crowd. I guess I should stop trying to be cute and funny because that's not what you people want to hear." I look down before continuing. "I know that you want to hear me say something nice about your tributes that will seem to make everything okay. As much as I would love to be able to say something nice about them, I can't. Nick Dawn and Nevaeh Tierney never had any sort of interaction with me. The only conversation between the three of us was made up of three sentences: Nevaeh complimented my skills with the bow and arrow, I thanked her, and Nick said I really wasn't _that_ good. That is me being honest. If you want be to be even more honest, I guess I can say that yes, I do have something nice to say. Nevaeh was nice enough to compliment her opponent and Nick...Nick was quiet. I never saw him sneak up on me." I look up at the angry crowd. "_Well _feel free to be angry. Thank you."

I storm off the stage only to be confronted by my drunken father. "What was that?" He slurs.

"Honesty."

He mutters something I can't understand as we are led inside the Justice Building.

The feast here is much more awkward than is District 11. At least there I had Kieran, Miranda, Chaff and Seeder to stick around. But here in District 10, I have nobody. I am avoided like a pariah by most while others nearly take off my fingers with their knives.

Unlike Mayor Mayer, Mayor Jackson gives a simple four-word speech. "To Panem's newest victor." He raises his glass and the rest of the table hal-heartedly follows. We are shown to our rooms in the Justice Building. Despite the fact that my father is _really _drunk now, I choose to sleep in his room because I am afraid that the 10 victors will kill me in my sleep.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

The next morning, I wake up with another hangover. I reach for a whiskey bottle Tanith had out and my fingers close around it. "Nah, don't you dare!" Ever shouts, taking it from me.

"Oh come o-"

"No! You're not getting drunk _again_. Just stay sober while we're in District 9. Besides, do oyu really want to face Raewyn's husband _drunk _when you have no control over what you say?" I swallow and Ever notices. "Didn't think so."

Dammit! I almost forgot about William Hemsworth. Jealous son of a-

"How long will the train ride be?" Ever asks Tanith.

"We have to go all the way around District 7 to get there, so it should take about a day and a half. Maybe two."

_Oh joy. Two days on train with _her_._


	6. Congenial

**Congenial****...or not****  
**

* * *

con·gen·ial [kuhn-jeen-yuhl]

–adjective

1.

agreeable, suitable, or pleasing in nature or character: _congenial surroundings._

2.

suited or adapted in spirit, feeling, temper, etc.; _compatible:__a congenial couple._

* * *

_Ever..._

The two days it took to get to District 9 couldn't have gone by faster. I rather wish that they had. Not that I am not excited to see Raewyn again, but the fact that two of my allies, Colton Cotton and Asia Hedvigg, were from 9. They both died and I could do nothing but watch.

I am worried about how the victors here will receive me. Hoping for the best but expecting the worst, I follow my father off of the train. As if the universe is laughing at me, I immediately embarrass myself. The wind blows my short silver metallic dress to reveal the black shorts I have underneath. I close my legs to hide it and hope the Capitol cameras missed it. Cinna had designed that dress to reflect District 9's product- metals and plastics.

Once my embarrassing moments blows over- pun totally intended- we go through the same routine. Peacekeepers lead us to the stage with victors sitting at the back of it. I am ready to face their burning and hateful stares but I never do. Sure, there are a few bitter-faced victors, but some are smiling, some nonchalant, one just looks really bored and there is one obvious morphling addict and two drunks. The victor sitting on the far left looks almost proud. One could guess who that is. It is the one sitting beside her that I notice looks very sad.

The crowd cheers as the Panem rule of thumb dictates. The noise finally dies down as I step up to give my speech. I try a new approach this time. Little girl with a big vocabulary. "Er, hi? Hm, all this speech making is getting really repetitive, don't you agree?" No answer. "That was rhetorical, great job! I know none of you want to hear a monologue, so I'm going to move on now. Your tributes...well, all of you saw the Games, right?" I get nods and soft mummers from the crowd.

I clear my throat before continuing. "Then I don't even have to tell you about your tributes. You saw just from watching- you saw that they were close to me. Allies. Most people would easily say that that was just a strategic move so I could win. It wasn't. We really were friends." I pause before finishing up. "We've all watched enough of these Victory Tours to know that a speech isn't complete without mentioning the tributes separately, so here goes. Colton Cotton was like a surrogate brother to me. As an only child, I never had anybody like him in my life. I know the Hunger Games are no place for that, but obviously we didn't get the memo. Asia Hedvigg was one of the coolest, funniest people I have ever met and ever will. She also didn't seem to get the memo about surrogate sibling bonds, because she was like the sister I never had. I am truly sorry that one of them aren't standing here today. However, I can't necessarily say that I wish I had died instead, because that is kind of self-loathing. But I wish it could have been different. Thank you." I clutch my bare shoulders and shiver as the wind blows again. Last time I let Cinna put me in a strapless. A faint sound soon distracts me from the cold. A small group of people at the back are clapping. Then everyone else in the back follows. Then the next row, the next...the middle...the front...finally, the victors.

They are all applauding what I had said, even the really sad-looking victor.

Then it hits me! The sad-looking victor is Lissana Hedvigg. Older sister of tribute Asia Hedvigg. I want to run over and hug her, but the Capitol cameras are still watching. I am already walking the thin line between likable victor and treasonous criminal with my speeches. I can't cross that thin but comfortable line by hugging Lissana.

The anthem of Panem plays and Peacekeepers lead us inside the Justice Building.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

Ever smiles as she sees empty seats near Raewyn at the feast.

"Ooh, ooh can we sit with her?"

I smile; she is starting to sound like the little girl she still deserves to be. "No, I was going to make you sit with the morphling- of course we're sitting with her, brainless."

"Heartless." She retorts with a giggle. That has always been our thing- her saying something dumb and me calling her brainless, getting heartless as a response. I hug her. "Er, you're embarrassing me."

"Oh really? Prepare for the torture to _begin_!" I pick her up and hold her there over my shoulder, of course I make sure her dress is covering the shorts underneath before I do anything else.

"Put me down!" She shouts, pounding her fists on my back.

"Is that supposed to hurt?"

"Yes!" She giggles.

"Well you're failing miserably." I say, smiling and tickling her foot.

"No stop! Come on!" She laughs. "Daddy cut it out!"

"Haymitch put her down!" Tanith scolds. I stick my tongue out at her and gently put Ever down. "Real mature, Abernathy."

"I know it! Rudo." I retort, using her last name. She purses her lips and takes a seat next to some random person.

* * *

_Ever..._

I take a seat next to Raewyn and my father sits across from me. "Hi!" I say cheerily.

"Ohmigosh hi!" She gives me a bone-crushing hug.

I gasp for air to be dramatic, "Need. Oxygen. Not. Getting it."

"How have you been, sweetie?" She asks with a grin.

"Oh...it's been good for the most part. My at home friends count is down to two since Josh and Ivy's mom won't let them talk to me anymore."

She frowns. "I'm sorry. That happened to me too...it gets better."

"I hope it will." Daddy shrugs from across the table.

Raewyn grins at him. "Haymitch, great to see you too."

"Hello _Haymitch_." A man with a wedding ring says to him, glaring machine guns and taking the seat across from Raewyn. She winces and glares nuclear bombs at the man.

"Good evening William." He says through his teeth.

I kick him in the shins and Raewyn kicks the man across from her in the shins. "Daddy behave!/William play nice!" I give Raewyn a look.

She understands the look and gives the man a sweet smile. "William, this is Ever Abernathy. Ever this is William, my husband." I hold in laughter. No _wonder _he's being a total (expletive) to my dad. People thought he and Raewyn were in a 'sexual relationship.' Oh, this is going to be fun.


	7. Asinine

I'll put the rest of D9 and all of D8 in the next chapter :)

* * *

**Asinine**

* * *

as·i·nine [as-uh-nahyn]

–adjective

1.

foolish, unintelligent, or silly; stupid:_ It is surprising that supposedly intelligent people can make such asinine statements._

2.

of or like an ass: _asinine obstinacy; asinine features_.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

Would it be okay if I just strangled William right there? No, probably not. Raewyn would kill me. But can anyone blame me? He's being such an ass! My goodness, does he really think I would try to be 'involved' with his wife? I'm not into girls! Or guys for that matter.

Despite the fact that I hope he falls off the face of the planet, I am nice to him throughout the feast. "So William, how have these fast four, five months been for you?"

He eyes me suspiciously. "Good."

"Be specific, Will." Raewyn orders her husband. I smirk, finding that rather hilarious.

He sighs, "Nothing bad happened."

"William! What he means is, we have good news."

"Rae honey-"

"Oh hush up!" She hisses before looking from me to Ever with a smile. "We recently found out I'm pregnant."

"Congratulations!" I say genuinely.

She smiles. "Thank you! He or she is due sometime in the fall."

"So after the Games this year?" I inquire.

She nods, "Yes. I take it you both will be mentoring?"

I sigh, "Unfortunately."

"Then in that case I'll mentor, too!" She smiles optimistically. Willaim groans in disgust. Ever is picking at her food. "What's wrong, sweetie?"

"Nothing's wrong. More like a dumb question...Daddy, where do babies come from?"

_Oh no she didn't! _"Uh...um...uh...don't you know?"

"No..."

I swear under my breath and William gives me a disapproving look. "Your daughter is almost 13 and you haven't told her yet?"

"That's not really the discussion a man would think to have with his daughter!"

"Told me what?" She asks innocently.

"Er, sex makes babies." I mutter, hands covering my face.

Ever is still curious. "How?"

Raewyn intervenes. "Ah, sweetie you're too young to know exactly _how_. Let's just say you aren't allowed to find out until you're twenty. Sound good?" She asks me the question at the end.

"Thirty." I correct.

"Yeah, thirty."

"But I know what sex is."

"Who the hell told you about sex!" I exclaim.

"Ivy did two years ago. That's why I joined Robbie in teasing about you and Raewyn having se-"

"WHAT!" William growls.

* * *

_Ever..._

"Ivy did two years ago. That's why I joined Robbie in teasing about you and Raewyn having se-"

"WHAT!" William growls. Oh shiznit. I totally forgot William doesn't like my father. "You-"

"No! No no no no no!" Raewyn assures him. "It was just some rumors flying around. He and I had like, two drinks and were catching up then it turned into this big rumor f- oh my gosh!" Before she could finish explaining the rumors, William is already up and had just punched my father in the face. I gasp right along with her. Neither of us know what to do as my father gets up and grabs William's fist before it connects with his face a second time. But he has two fists so he goes for another punch. However, my father has better reflexes and grabs William's free wrist and turns his entire body around so William's back is facing him, arms twisted in an unmovable position.

"Chill out and trust your wife!" He tells him. William glares and tries to wriggle free. "I might be a bit of an alcoholic, but I can still kick your ass any day."

"You wouldn't."

"I would. Just not in front of your wife...and that's only because she is a good friend of mine...we are _not _sexually involved!" He lets William go only to to be punched in the chest and the kidneys. He winces but quickly restrains him again, this time he throws him into the table. "Punch me again and _see _what happens.

Raewyn reaches across the table and punches her husband's chest. "Stop overreacting! Dammit William you do this with every male I even speak to! Don't you trust me at all? You're such an ass!"

William stutters.

"You know what? Just, whatever. We'll discuss this at home."

Mayor Gin clears his throat after a while. Luckily, nobody heard the fight between Daddy, William and Raewyn. "I would like to take this moment to recognize Panem's newest and youngest victor, the girl who truly cared for the fallen tributes of our district. For that, we owe her our gratitude, our congratulations and our well wishes. To Ever!"

"To Ever!"

Daddy smiles proudly and winks at me. _Officially embarrassed._

* * *

_Haymitch..._

After the feast I go up to the roof of the Justice Building with a small bottle of liquor. I don't plan to drink the whole thing, just a few sips. The air here is much different than the air of District 12. I kind of like it. There is a distant smell of factories but it is over-powered by the fresh, misty air and the scent of trees. There are more trees here than in 12, which I always thought was impossible except for District 7.

I am so caught up in the night air that I don't even notice the door open until I hear the voice behind me. "Nice night, isn't it?" I jump before I turn around and notice it is Raewyn.

"I guess it is."

"How's your face?"

"Still hurts but it's been worse."

She touches the spot on the right side of my face where William punched the hardest. "I'm really sorry about him. He can be so stupid and foolish sometimes." She leans over and kisses the bruise. I blush and try to hide it. _You're married! _I think to myself. "Better?"

"So I'm five now?"

"No. Six." She pauses before getting serious again. "What are you thinking about?"

"What do you mean?"

She raises an eyebrow, "You didn't come up here to smell the air Haymitch. What's eating you?"

"Huh?"

"It's a District 9 phrase meaning what's wrong what are you worried about?"

"Nothing." I say slowly. She isn't buying it so she keeps pushing me until I finally say, "Doesn't it bother you at all?"

"Doesn't what bother me?"

"Everything...the Capitol, the Games...doesn't it bother you at all?"

"Of course it does. Do you think I like looking two kids in they eye every year telling them they have a chance when they don't?"

"Everybody has a chance." I say.

"Assuming you're right, let's say that one tribute I mentor has a 3.004 chance of winning while the other has a .02 chance. How am I supposed to look the .02 kid in the eye with a good conscience? Sometimes I wish I was like you."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Able to be drunk all the time so I forget...does it work?"

I shake my head. "The memories I want to forget...I can't. I think that's why I am drunk all the time. I can forget when I am drunk but after that the memories come flooding back."

She looks down sadly before looking up and bravely looking me in the eye. "Memories of..._her_?"

I must look as if someone shot an arrow through me. What she said was true; I do think about Rose all the time. "I know it's been almost thirteen years, but..." I trail off.

She claps her hand over my shoulder. "I know, Haymitch. You miss her and that's okay." The door to the roof opens and William walks out. "Um...I'll see you tomorrow. Good night."

"Good night." _Damn William._


	8. Puerile

Chapter where Haymitch sappiness starts! Along with other things.

* * *

**Puerile  
**

* * *

pu·er·ile [pyoo-er-il, -uh-rahyl, pyoor-il, -ahyl]

–adjective

1.

of or pertaining to a child or to childhood.

2.

childishly foolish; immature or trivial: a puerile piece ofwriting.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

After Raewyn goes back inside with William I move to sit on the edge of the roof. I take a sip from the liquor bottle. Sitting here looking out at all of the lights still on makes me think about another night up on a roof.

_Flashback_

_"Daddy I no sleepy." Three year old Ever says. __I am tired and my breath smells of alcohol. Ever crinkles her nose from the smell until I sleepily cover my mouth with my hand. "Daddy I no sleepy!" She repeats._

_"I am." I say with a yawn._

_"I wan' go to da woof."_

_"Why?"_

_"Is pwetty at night."_

_"Fine." I mumble. I slip on some shoes and wrestle my three year old into socks and a jacket before carrying her up the staircase to the roof. "Sweetheart, it's freezing. Are you sure you want to be up here?"_

_"Uh huh." She says with her little mouth buried into my jacket. I turn he so she is facing the Capitol and can see the lights. "Why is Distwict tweve? Not pwetty?"_

_"Because it is not supposed to be."_

_"Why?" _Oh how wonderful. She has discovered the question of 'why.' _I think._

_"It just isn't."_

_"Why?"_

_"The Capitol's fault."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because they're mean."_

_"Why?"_

_I don't have a simple answer for that so I just touch my hand to her small toddler face. "Aren't you cold?"_

_"I wittle chilly." I gently set her down on the ledge, not worried about her falling off because of the force field and take off my jacket. I wrap her in it like an infant and pick her back up. She buries her head into my chest. "Daddy chilly?"_

_I shake my head and tell her no. "The cold doesn't bother me." I kiss her forehead and hug her. Drunk as I may be I am sober enough to pay attention to the three year old. It's hard to believe she's mine- we are polar opposites and it should be impossible for us to be related. She looks mostly like her mother with the same chestnut brown hair and dark brown eyes. She even has Rose's nose. The attitude is all mine though. Ever is almost as stubborn and just as determined as I am about things. Even at the age of three._

_It isn't long until I hear gentle and steady breathing. I look down at my arms and see she is sleeping contently like only a child can. She is unaware of what is going on in the world and doesn't even know the reason behind having to travel to the 'pretty' Capitol each year. I love her but I also envy her. She still has her childhood and the belief that 'tomorrow' just a big word meaning another happy day._

If only she knew.

_I kiss her forehead again before standing up and bringing her inside. She stirs and I shush her, "Sh, go back to sleep sweetheart." She buries her head back into my shoulder and goes back to sleep. I have her lay down on the side with the most pillows and let her sleep._

Maybe it's a good thing she doesn't know.

_End flashback_

* * *

_Ever..._

The next morning is filled with shaking hands and goodbyes. Of course I hug Raewyn goodbye and I even joke about how she has to name the baby Ever if it's a girl. She laughs and tells me, "Sure, that won't be confusing at all!" She hugs me again. "See you in the Capitol."

"You're mentoring?"

"Of course I am. Who else is going to keep your father, Chaff and Finnick under control."

I laugh and continue shaking victor's hands. I stop at Asia's older sister. I look Lissana in the eye and whisper, "I'm sorry." Tearfully, she nods and squeezes my hand before I continue on.

Not surprisingly, William and my father are in a another fight. This time, they have their hands on each other's shoulders- William the offensive my father the defensive. Raewyn marches over to them and squeezes in between. She is tougher than I thought and quickly pushes them apart. "Stop releasing sexual tensions and just _act _civil!" The two men blush and sheepishly apologize.

I sigh and grabs my father's left wrist while Tanith grabs his right. "Come on." We say in unison. _You'd think that since the man isn't much younger than forty he would be more mature...guess not._

Once we are on the train, my father starts swearing uncontrollably:

"(bleep) it! That son of a (bleep) can go to (bleep) for all I (bleep)ing care! He needs a (bleep)ing (bleep) slap to the face and foot shoved up his (bleep)! I don't give a flying (bleep) what happens as long as I get to inflict the pain! I can't believe that son of a mother (bleep)ing (bleep) thinks I am actually going to sleep with his wife! Sure, she's (bleep)ing gorgeous but I'm not the (bleep) hole who would have sex with someone else's wife. Holy (bleep)ing whore and a half!"

"Haymitch! Watch your language your daughter is here!" Tanith scolds.

"I don't give a flying (bleep) if she (bleep)ing hears me swear or not! She hears it all the time!"

"You're acting childish!"

I facepalm. "Oh dear."

"(Bleep) you!"

"Ever, go to another room in the compartment please."

"Why? It's not like I don't say stuff like that." I start to say every swear I know, but I can only get through the A, D and S words before Tanith shuts me up and forcefully walks me to a room on the train.

"(Bleep) you with something hard and sandpapery!"


	9. Peregrination

Super short, I know! Just again, to prove I'm still alive :P District 7 will be...interesting. I'll cram it into one chapter, but tt'll be long.

**Peregrination**

* * *

per·e·gri·na·tion [per-i-gruh-ney-shuhn]

–noun

1. travel from one place to another

2. a course of travel; journey.

* * *

_Kenton Rainriver, District 12_

Ever has only visited three districts and already they were playing the highlights of her victory tour thus far. She is shown in District 11 with one of the son's on the mentor Haymitch is friend's with. She and she boy are play fighting. My face goes red when they show the boy wrapping an arm around her waist.

_You don't touch her! Oh great, Kenton. You're getting defensive over a girl that you aren't even _with _in that way. Gosh she's what? 12? And you will be 16...about a month after she is 13. It'd never work out anyway. Ugh, loser!_

* * *

_Ever..._

Before stepping off the train into District 8, I let Cinna put my hair up like he did before I went into the arena. Cinna had put me in a pink sari with several small jingling bracelets. I love the sari, even though it is the most disgusting color in the world. I hate pink with a passion.

I finally leave the train only to be faced with countless Capitol cameras and angry looks from the coterie of victors and District 8 residents. I hurry to give my victory speech here. At this point, I am in no mood to be a sugarcoater.

I clear my throat and begin to speak. "I'm really sorry that I don't have a lot to say about your tributes. Nolan Wilton was the same age as me, so I can empathize with what he must have been feeling towards the end, there. And Carmen Silver was a nice person. We never spoke, but she smiled at me in the training room once. She pitied me when I should have been the one pitying her. I'm sorry that the families had to loose one of their own but I am not sorry that I am alive. That's just they way it is." I exit the stage as quickly as I can. In fact, I can't seem to get away fast enough.

The feast is very uneventful and mostly silent. Mayor Jagger gives the traditional spiel over the new victor, "Congratulations on winning, Ever. Well wishes to you. To Ever!"

"To Ever."

The sooner this Victory Tour is over the sooner I can go home to the dusty coal-infested streets of District 12. It isn't much, but it's my home.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

I remember my Victory Tour perfectly. It was a living hell. _Poor Ever. The sooner this whole thing is over with the sooner she can go back to smiling. I do miss her smile._

Instead of staying the night in the Justice Building as per tradition, Ever insists on getting a head start to District 7.

I try to persuade her otherwise- after all, the sooner we get to District 7, the sooner we have to face Johanna Mason.

"Daddy, I don't like District 8. 11 wasn't so bad because Chaff, Seeder and Winnow were nice. 10 wans't too bad either because at least I got to go to District 9 afterwards. District 9 was nice to me, plus, Raewyn lives there. The sooner we get to District 7, the sooner we can get to 6 and 5. THen after 5, it's 4 and you know I get along with Finnick and Mags is just a nice old lady. Come on, pleeeease?" She begs.

I sigh and finally give in. "Oh, alright. Johanna Mason it is."

"What?"

"District 7 it is." I say, glad she didn't hear my previous comment.

* * *

_Ever..._

That night, I have my first nightmare in months:

_I am running through the arena by myself. No allies, no weapons, no backpack for survival, no nothing. The entire arena is up in flames around me and I can't run through them, they're too thick. Faces appear in the flames._

_First, it is Colton Cotton's face. He is glaring at me and he yells, "Why should you have survived! You're a worthless _baby_!"_

_Then Asia- "I'm older than you! Okay, sure, it's only by like, 11 months, but I _deserved _to win! Now my sister's have to mourn me. You have nobody but a drunken father!"_

_Zephyr- "I died. I _protected _you! I taught you how to survive! And for what?"_

_Zayna- "I love you like family. And you let me die?"_

_Then the faces of the other tributes flash by me in a blur. Most hauntingly, City Ballantine and Trendy Twilight, the two Careers I'd killed. "MURDERER!" They shout piercingly. _

_Two more faces haunt me even more than those of my allies and my first kills. Robbie Hester and Slate Fallon. "I should have killed you when I hate the chance." Slate says._

_Robbie sneers, "But no! I insisted on being her killer. Tell me Abernerdy. Do you think you deserved to win?"_

_"Why don't we just kill her now?" Slate asks Robbie._

_"Hm?"_

_"We have the chance."_

_Robbie and Slate's heads nod to each other in the fire. Then the gigantic heads shrink to human size and sprout full bodies. The holographic figures turn into solid human being. Slate conjures up his scythe from out of nowhere and Robbie wields his sword. _

_I begin to scream wildly and-_

_"Ever! Ever!"_

"Ever wake up!" My father is violently shaking me awake. He is obviously in a state of extreme worry and a bit of panic.

I am kicking my legs and flailing my arms around uncontrollably and I am crying and covered in sweat.

"Ever sweetheart." He says, pulling me closer to him and wrapping his arms around me protectively. He keeps one hand on the back of my head, pressing my cheek into his shoulder. "Shh. It's okay, baby girl. Nobody is going to hurt you."

"P-promise?"

"Of course." He kisses my forehead and gently pats my back.

"I just want to forget."

"I know you do."

"Promise I never have to go back into the arena?"

"I promise." He kisses my forehead again and gets up to leave.

"No!" He turns around and raises an eyebrow. "Can you stay 'till I fall asleep."

"Of course sweetheart."


	10. Arcane

Who ever can catch Johanna's little speech error gets a cookie. Hint: It has something to do with the CF/MJ rebels...and the titel of a HSM song. (UGH I hate that movie :P)

Now that you have the hint, you'll find it easily :)

* * *

**Arcane**

* * *

ar·cane [ahr-keyn]

–adjective

known or understood by very few; mysterious; secret; obscure; esoteric:

* * *

_Ever..._

I wake up the next morning expecting to be alone, but my father is sitting beside my bed and is asleep. I go to shake him away, but he stirs before I can move. "You didn't have to stay here all night." I tell him, fidgeting with my hands.

"Of course I did. If the nightmares came back I'd be able to wake you up without you waking the rest of the train first."

I half smile and hug him. "'Morning Daddy."

"It's the afternoon, sweetheart."

"What!" I throw the blankets off of me to check the time. Sure enough, 12:30. "Crap! Cinna only has half an hour t-"

"That won't be a problem. He doesn't want to make you look too different this time."

I breathe a sigh of relief. "Oh good. Can I go back to sleep?"

"Nope, I have to hand you over to Cinna now. Cinna!"

_Great. Just great._

* * *

_Haymitch..._

"Ow! Venia stop pulling my hair!" Ever screams.

"Hold still and it won't hurt as much!" Flavius hisses. Ever rolls her eyes, but obeys him anyway.

I smirk and tease her. "You look like a girl, sweetheart."

"I'll punch you!"

"I'll kick you ass!" I say with a grin. She ignores me after that.

* * *

_Ever..._

I tug on one of the tight curls my prep team styled my hair into. I hope it will straighten, but it doesn't. I sigh and follow Tanith off of the train. My father has a small bottle of liquor in his hand- not that I expected any different- but he isn't drunk just yet. Peacekeepers lead us to the stage like always.

The crowd is silent and the victors behind me aren't glaring. They seem to be examining me and measuring up my worth. _No matter, _I think as I open my mouth to speak. "Um, hi. I know you want me to hurry and get this speech over with, so I will. I really didn't know either of your tributes. Mike did give me a few pointers on wielding a knife, but he helped everybody out. I guess he was just genuinely a good guy. Then there was Hollie. She scared me. That's really all-"

"Liar!" Screams a middle-aged woman from the crowd. Everyone parts to either side so I can get a better glimpse of her. "Liar! You killed her! You killed my daughter! You murderer!"

My eyes frantically move around. "What am I supposed to do?" I mouth to my father. He just shrugs. _Thanks for supporting your daughter, Daddy._I think sarcastically.

"You murderer!" She repeats shrilly.

"I-" I start before I am interrupted by a hand being placed slowly over my mouth and gently pushing me aside. I look up and recognize the person ad the victor of the 70th Hunger Games, Johanna Mason. I've run into her a few times in the Capitol and we were close enough to wave when we saw each other. But I doubt she remembers my name.

I am completely surprised by what happens next. Johanna bends down to the microphone which is set for my height. "Ms; I realize you miss your daughter and you wish she was standing here instead of some little girl from District 12, but contain yourself. Thank you." She steps back and gestures for me to step forward and finish.

"Right...about Hollie. I'm sorry that she had to die, but I had to it. Again, I'm sorry, but it is what it is. Thank you." I mumble those last two words and abruptly turn to walk away. I don't even give Johanna Mason a second look.

Daddy is mumbling something and I stand on my toes to try and hear it, but I can't hear anything so I give up after about ten seconds. The same Peacekeepers from earlier lead us into the Justice Building. I am prepared for the victors to all be very hostile, considering I killed Hollie Stern, but they weren't. They behaved oddly, yes, but not openly cruel. I look for Johanna, thinking that maybe I should thank her for standing up for me, but I can't seem to find her. I shrug and begin shaking the hands of victors as the come up to greet me.

I sit down next to Daddy and Cinna for the feast and notice Johanna still isn't there. I tap my father on the shoulder and whisper, "Why did Johanna stick up for me back there?"

"A similar thing happened to her on her victory tour. She kept her cool like you tried to."

"What do you mean by _tried_?" I inquire.

"Uh...really? You were about to have a heart attack up there. Lucky Mason noticed."

"I thought I told you my name is Johanna." She says, sitting in the empty seat across from me.

His eyes widen. "Er, right."

"Haymitch, you don't have to be afraid of me. I'm not going to rip your head off."

"Yeah...okay."

"You know I won't. We're all in this together." Daddy gives her the 'look' and she instantly covers her mouth.

I am completely confused here, so of course I ask a question- "What were you talking about, Johanna?"

"Nothing." She and my father say in unison, too quickly.

"Come on, what is it?"

"Ever Elizabeth." Daddy warns.

"But-" I am interrupted by Mayor Jennings.

The short, pudgy man stands up and raises his glass. "The mayor and victors of District 7 welcome you, Ever Abernathy, to our fine district. I trust you are doing well?"

"Yes." I say softly, bare above a whisper.

"Congratulations on your victory. I hope you have been enjoying an will continue to enjoy your stay here with us. To Ever!"

"To Ever!"

_'To Ever!' Really, I am getting sick of hearing those words. Ugh, but more importantly, what was Johanna talking about that Daddy won't let me even hear about? I know I'm still his little girl to him, but I'm not little anymore. Nobody comes out of that arena a little girl._

_Not even me._

* * *

Whoo! I can't wait until District 4! Guess what happens there? MORE Haymitch sappiness, Ever and Finnick antic-ness, Mags giving Ever cookies-ness and Ever-meets-Annie-ness! Yay!

I shall cram D6 and D5 in one since nobody cool is from there.


	11. Phlegmatic

**Phlegmatic**

* * *

–adjective

1. not easily excited to action or display of emotion; apathetic; sluggish.

2. self-possessed, calm, or composed.

* * *

_Ever..._

Johanna Mason is okay. She isn't super nice, as I come to discover. But she has really cool hair- spiky and auburn! I am so super jealous of her. I ask Daddy if I can put blue and pink streaks in my hair and bleach one piece blonde. To this he responds, "Aw hell nah!"

We say goodbye to the victors of district 7 before boarding the train to District 6. The train ride takes another two days to finish, as District 7 is located in what was formerly Canada and District 6 is located in what used to be the state of Texas and partially the country of Mexico. Unlike most students, I actually pay attention in Geography of Panem.

The Peacekeepers in District 6 seem very... emotionless. I can't tell what they are feeling because they seem so inhuman. I hurry onto the stage in District 6 for my speech.

"Hello. Wow. This District is probably one of the toughest so far. I watched your boy tribute die...and I didn't even know his name. I probably should have made more of an effort, but I, just I am sure he was, was too preoccupied with learning survival skills to learn and commit to memory the names of the non-threatening tributes. That's what he was to me. A non-threat. I knew he could probably kill me in an instant, but I instantly profiled him as somebody who wouldn't unless it was necessary. Had I known I would watch him die a few short days alter, I would have made an effort to memorize his name. To his family, I apologize. And your girl...her name I remember. Only because she tried the kill me. Tigerlily Corbin was a formidable opponent. She made it further in the Games than I thought when I first saw her across the dining hall at the training center. She seemed weak to me. Not as weak as me of course, but weak. I don't really know what happened to her, but-"

"You district partner and that creep from 2 teamed up and killed her and the girl from 10! Didn't you pay attention to the highlights of your Games, stupid girl!" Shouts a random person in the crowd. I shoot a glare in the direction of the voice.

"That is all. Thank you." I step off the stage without a second glance.

It seems like this entire district is the same. Emotionless. The victors introduce themselves with a handshake but they barely touch my hand. It is almost as if they don't care what kind of impression they make on me, which is odd. All of the other victors either made a good or bad impression on me on purpose. They had striven to give me an opinion on them. But not the victors of 6. They don't try to be nice, mean, happy, sad, angry, welcoming- anything. They just...exist.

I soon discover why. I notice black circles on most of their arms and immediately realize what they are.

_Flashback..._

_"Ever Elizabeth get back here!" Daddy shouts after me._

_"I'm just going to say 'hi' to Beetee, Daddy!" I shout back at him, running as fast as my five year old legs can carry me. "Beetee!" I exclaim cheerily, giving him and awkward side-hug. He is shorter than Daddy and Chaff, so my hug almost reaches his waist._

_I can tell that I had startled him until he looks down and sees me. He smiles, pries me off of him and picks me up. "Well hello, Ever! Where's your father?"_

_"Daddy's back there, see?" I point to where he is, hurrying towards us._

_Beetee laughs as I lean toward his face to grab his glasses. "Did you run off without telling Haymitch again?"_

_"Well yeah." I say, putting his glasses on my face. "Why do these help you see things? I feel blind with them on."_

_He laughs again and explains that he has trouble seeing, so he had to get glasses. "But your eyesight is perfectly fine, so glasses mess up your vision."_

_"Oh..."_

_"Ever! There you are; Beetee I'm so sorry, is she bothering you?" Daddy asks, taking me back from him and handing Beetee his glasses._

_"Not at all. Haymitch, I told you, she's never a bother." Another mentor from another district randomly runs up to him with paint and a paintbrush and paints blue circles around his eyes. If I were Beetee I would have spit on that meanie heads face as soon as the paintbrush touched me. He didn't even flinch. He stood there and let the person. Then when the person stood back to admire her "work," Beetee _thanks _her._

_"Thank you, Athena. It's beautiful, but you have to go back to Eleazar now."_

_The woman nods and turns to leave, but bumps into Daddy who is holding me. Blue paint gets all over our clothes. I notice many black circles all over her arms. They look creepy. "What happened to your arm?" I ask her. __Beetee and Daddy exchange glances before quickly helped up Athena and sending her off to mess with somebody else. __"Well?" I press._

_"You want to get this one?" Daddy asks his fellow victor._

_"Don't look at me for this one, Haymitch. This subject is too awkward."_

_"Alright fine, but you're staying here while I explain."_

_"Fine by me."_

_Daddy takes a moment to think before saying, "Alright, I'll only explain this once so you have to promise to listen closely, okay?"_

_I nod. "Promise!"_

_"Those marks on Athena's arm are from giving herself morphling all of the time."_

_"What's a mor-a-fah-lick?"_

_"Morphling. It's a type of medicine, a painkiller. Morphling is a very good think and helps a lot of people who got hurt. But when people who don't need morphling start to use it, it is a very bad thing. Morphling makes them loose their minds because the morphling people who don't need it use is different thank the good kind, but also very much the same."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"They have most of the same stuff to make it, but bad morphling has some, er, extras."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because people who use bad morphling do not need painkillers. They want some, er, other effects."_

_"Like what?"_

_"You're too little to know about that."_

_"Then why are that lady's arms all spotty?"_

_"Because bad morphling it put in someone body with a needle, like a shot. It doesn't leave a black mark at first, but once somebody does it to themselves a lot like Athena does there will be a black mark. Athena likes bad morphling a whole lot, so she has a whole bunch of little black circles."_

_"Why do people like bad morphling if it's bad?"_

_"It keeps their minds off of the arena."_

_"Is that why you drink that grownup drink all the time?" I ask innocently._

_"Yes. That's why Daddy drinks the grownup drink."_

* * *

_Haymitch..._

I notice Ever looking at the black marks on the victor's arms. I don't blame her, seeing as I never warned her that District 6 is where bad morph- I mean- morphling in general comes from.

Whether one can blame her or not, staring is still rude. "Ever!" I hiss.

"Hm?"

"Don't stare."

"How-"

"You get used to it." I answer the question before she can ask it.

I wonder if she can remember that day in the capitol that I explained what morphling is to her. How old was she? Five I believe it was. _She's almost thirteen...already? I can't believe it, where have the years gone? She's grown so much...how come I can't remember most of it?_

I look down at the object in my right hand.

_Oh, that's right. The bottle._

* * *

_Ever..._

After the feast, I insist on hurrying to District 5. The trip will only take about three hours and if I can hurry up and give my speech and eat a decent amount at the feast there, we can board the train to 4 and arrive there in the morning.

"Ever are you sure you want to leave so quickly? Won't you get tired?" Cinna asks me.

"I'm sure. I don't like the way this place makes me feel."

He nods and tells Tanith and my father. Daddy agrees to leave, but Tanith argues her point to stay. Or at least she tries to. Daddy, Cinna and I do not want to hear it, so we start on our journey to District 5.

The train ride is uneventful, nobody speaks. I suddenly regret my decision to leave 6 so quickly, as I feel like I am about to fall asleep. However, I will not admit that to anybody, so I try to hide it. The train stops in District 5 and the Capitol cameras flash like crazy. I shiled my eyes as best as I can with a silk sash that _was _around my waist before I tore it off.

The Peacekeepers here do not even bother to lead us to the town square, considering that it is right near the train station and can be seen from it. I find the stage and speed through my speech. "Ah, I didn't know your tributes, I hate to admit that. I only remember the boy's name. His name was Neeko Quinley and he was 13, barely older than me. I'm sorry. Thank you."

The victors are also very emotionless at the feast. No wonder nobody really talks to or about them in the Capitol. They don't _do _anything.

By the time we board the train to leave I am so tired that I have to lean on my father's shoulder just to walk. "I know what'll wake you up." He says.

"Wha'?"

"You get to see Finnick tomorrow."

"Oooh Finnick!" I pipe up, now wide awake.

"And Mags."

I grin. "I like Mags. Little old ladies are nice."


	12. Affable

I'll split D4 into two chapters, because it is so awesome!

* * *

**Affable**

* * *

af·fa·ble [af-uh-buhl]

–adjective

1. pleasantly easy to approach and to talk to; friendly; cordial;warmly polite: an affable and courteous gentleman.

2. showing warmth and friendliness; benign; pleasant: an affablesmile.

* * *

_Ever..._

The train pulls into the District 4 station and I get a whiff of the salty sea air. It is much different than the dirty coal-filled air in District 12 and I rather like it. I must admit, it is much warmer than in District 12.

By now I know the drill with the Peacekeepers, so I do not even pretend to be surprised when they forcefully lead me to the stage. The population of District 4 is outrageously high, much higher than that of the population in 12. We have a decent amount of people at home, but somebody could fit at least three 12s here. I guess whoever has the most food has the most people.

Shoving my thoughts about population aside, I clear my throat to give my speech. "Er...hi. I um...I didn't know your tributes well, I'm sorry about that because I don't really have anything nice to say about them, which is what I know you want. But if it helps the families any- Josiah Keller was rather gorgeous and I was very jealous of Taya Scout's red hair. I know that those things are about something as trivial as appearances, but I just thought maybe you'd like to know that you had good-looking children...and people noticed. Again, I'm very sorry that I don't have something nicer to say." I nod to the crowd and exit the stage. The clap politely, but I can't help but to picture them wishing my head was dangling from a rope in front of their faces. Oh, well. At least I know two victors who will be nice.

"Don't scream!"

"AHHH!" Speak of the devil.

Finnick Odair is standing in front of me laughing his pretty little head off. He has the fingers of one hand entwined in his beautiful bronze hair and his incredible sea green eyes are twinkling. "Scared ya, didn't I?"

"Shut up, pretty boy!" I shout, angry at him for scaring me.

"No need to be so mean, gorgeous." He says using his seductive purr. "Ow!" He exclaims as my father's palm connects with his face.

"She's twelve Finnick Odair!"

I giggle. "Haha Finnick got slapped! I forgive you now."

He grins, "Good. We have plenty of time before the feast. What do you say to me kidnapping you?"

"Sounds fun! Daddy can I go get kidnapped by Finnick now?"

"Sure, I trust him. Just no seducing." He says with a smile.

"Haha! You're mine now!" Finnick shouts, grabbing me and running off to goodness knows where.

* * *

_Finnick Odair..._

"Haha! You're mine now!" I shout, grabbing Ever and running off to the ocean with her. We laugh like small children the whole way to rocky shoreline of District 4.

I finally put her down on some large rocks and I take a small stone and trow it at the ocean. "Wow..." She breathes, staring out at the water.

"Wow what?"

"The ocean. It's beautiful, I've never seen it before."

"You like it?" I ask with a mischievous grin. She doesn't notice my facial expression because she isn't looking at me but the ocean.

"Of course I like it. It just goes on forever...do you think it has an end to it?"

I stare out at the sea like she is before answering. "I'm not sure. I don't think the ocean ever ends. I'm pretty sure that eventually, you'll just hit some other landmass and behind that landmass is another ocean with another landmass and ocean behind that one. Eventually those landmasses should lead right back to here. The world is round, you know."

"It is? I thought it was...flat."

"They don't teach you that in District 12."

I shake my head.

"Poor thing."

"Do you think other people live on those other landmasses? Do you think there is another place like Panem? Or another country without the Hunger Games? Or a Capitol? A place where people can be free?"

I bite my lip. "I don't know, maybe someday we will find out. It isn't really safe to talk about things like that here."

"I'm sorry." She apologizes.

"Naw, Ev, don't be. I can show you a place where it _is _safe."

"Really?"

I nod. "It's a really fun place. I used to go there all the time when I was your age. I hope you don't mind getting your clothes wet."

She takes several articles of clothing off, leaving a blue undershirt and black shorts. "Cinna figured I would get wet." She explains.

I smile, "Smart designer. Now you have to stay close to me in the ocean, don't open your eyes underwater, don't drink the saltwater and if you start to feel like you can't stay up anymore I want you to grab on to me, got it?"

"Got it." She says. I look at her in amazement as she follows me into the ocean. I remember when she was shorter than most of the waves.

_Flashback_

_I walk off the stage in District 12 after giving my victory speech and am ushered into the Justice Building by impatient Peacekeepers. _Peacekeepers, _I think. _Who needs them?

_It is traditional for the victors in each district to announce their first name, middle name and the Games they won when greeting the newest victor (ma, Finnick Odair, 65th Games). But the only living victor of the district, Haymitch Abernathy, is nothing like that. In fact, he shakes my hand and says, "I'm Haymitch. _Pleasure _meeting you_." _I can tell that he is sarcastic and I decide that I like this guy._

_"_Pleasure _meeting you too. You should know my name." I say, returning the sarcasm and adding a hint of arrogance. _

_He looks at my mentor, Mags. "I like this kid."_

_"Thank you." I say. "You aren't anything like I was expecting you to be."_

_"Oh? What were you expecting?"_

_"A completely wasted man. That's what everyone was saying."_

_Haymitch guffaws like I had just told him the funniest joke in the world. "I don't have time to be drunk all of the time."_

_"Why not?" I ask. Suddenly, a small child with brown hair comes running out from another room._

_"That's why." He says, chasing the child down. "Ever I told you to stay in the other room until later."_

_"I know, I sorry but Madge was chasing me!" The child, a little girl, says as she points to the door which she came from._

_"I don't see Madge anywhere."_

Is this his sister? Or niece? _I think, not considering the obvious._

_"She was there Daddy, she was! I had to run!" She lifts her small arms up to him to be picked up. _

_Haymitch quickly lifts her off the ground and pushes the long messy chestnut brown hair out of her face. He begins to pull small brown barrettes from her hair. "Ever can't you keep these in your hair for five minutes?" He asks as he puts them back in her hair._

_"Dey musta falled out." She says in a high-pitched voice with a shrug._

_"How old is she?" I ask._

_Haymitch seems somewhat startled, like he forgot where he was. "Five."_

_"And a _half!_" Ever corrects._

_"Nuh uh, not for like, another month." Haymitch argues._

_"Yeah huh!"_

_"Nuh uh!"_

_"Yeah huh!"_

_"Nuh uh!"_

_"Arguing with your five year old, Haymitch?" Mags teases._

_He rolls his eyes. "What? She's wrong and won't admit I'm right."_

_I laugh._

_"Down!" Ever commands. Haymitch puts he down and she walks over to me. She tugs on my pant leg until I look down at her. "Wha's your name? My name's Ever."_

_"I'm Finnick."_

_"How old are you?"_

_"I'm fourteen."_

_"Fourteen..." she repeats. She turns her attention to her hands and moves her fingers one at a time. "I can't count that much. Can you be ten?"_

_Mags and I chuckle. Haymitch grabs one of Ever's hands. "Okay sweetheart, stop bugging Finnick now."_

_"Oh, she's not bugging me. She's adorable."_

_Haymitch blushes slightly. "Thank you." I smile and continue playing with Ever. Lucky for us, the Capitol cameras are off._

_By the time the feast is ready, I already know Ever's biggest secrets. "My Daddy don't know I'm friends with boys at school." Or, "I'm still afraid of the dark."_

_End flashback_

It's so hard to think that that little girl I met in the Justice Building is now the youngest victor in history- a title previously held by me.

"You doing okay?" I ask after a huge wave crashes into us, shoving Ever against a rock.

"I'm fine!" She calls back. Believing her, I lead her to a sea cave not too far from the rock. "Whoa! What is this place?"

"It's a cave I found when I was around your age. I come here when I need to...get away."

She looks puzzled. "Get away? Get away from what?"

I bite my tongue. _Idiot! She's too young to know about what the Capitol did to you. _"From certain things."

"What things?"

"I love you to death, but I'm not telling you. You're too young."

She huffily folds her arms over her chest. "Everybody says that."

I playfully punch my shoulder. "It's true, gorgeous. You just enjoy being a kid."

She sighs and looks at the entrance to the cave sadly. "It's too late for that now." I realize she is right. _Poor thing._

* * *

_Haymitch's POV..._

"Where are they?" Mags asks impatiently.

Annie Cresta presses her hands against her ears. "Finnick."

"I know Annie, Finnick will be here soon." Mags says.

I feel bad for Annie. She had to watch her district partner be decapitated right in front of her and has never been the same since. She isn't completely insane, but she has her moments.

"Finnick!" Annie cries happily as he and Ever. She waves one hand in the air to attract his attention. My jaw drops when I see the two of them. They are soaking wet and Ever isn't wearing the blue dress anymore. She is in nothing but a blue shirt and black shorts.

"Ever!" I gasp. "Where did your clothes go?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Couldn't help myself." Finnick jokes.

"Not funny!" I shout. "Seriously. Where are your clothes?"

"By the ocean."

"Why...?"

"We went skinny dipping." Finnick says.

* * *

_Ever..._

"We went skinny dipping." Finnick says, winking at me. I laugh and quickly agree with him.

Daddy slaps him again. "Daddy, we're just kidding! We had our clothes on the whole time."

"Well that's okay then."

"Finnick!" A young woman with beautiful brown hair and sea green eyes exclaims, wrapping her arms around Finnick.

"Finnick Odair, you're cheating on me?" I ask, pretending to be shocked.

The young woman giggles while Finnick answers. "I'm sorry my love, it's just...with Annie, I'm not a pedophile." Finnick I exchange a glance and we begin laughing hysterically. The woman- Annie- even joins in. Finnick clears his throat. "How rude, I didn't introduce you two. Annie, this is Ever Abernathy. Ever, this is-"

"Annie Cresta." The woman interrupts. She has a kind voice and seems just as beautiful inside as she is out. I also can't help but notice that she is a little...off. "But please, just call me Annie. It's wonderful to finally get a chance to meet you. Mags and Finnick have been telling me I would like you when we met."

I grin. "Let's hope they were right."

Annie giggles, "They seem to be, so far." We shake hands, then Mags hugs me like a grandmother would. Right when Mags and I break the hug, Peacekeepers come and announce that the feast is ready. Finnick and I are still in our wet clothes and our hair is still wet.

"I guess we're going to get funny looks from everybody, but that's okay." He says with a goofy grin. I return the grin. _Finnick is really cool. I wish I had at least said "hello" to him in the Capitol last year. Eh, at least we can hang out now._

_

* * *

_Hi!

Sorry if I didn't portray Annie as "crazy" enough. Katniss never specified exactly _how _crazy Annie is, so I picture her as mostly "normal" but just a little (as Ever has previously said) off.

-Mak

(Next chapter will have more Finnick/Annie/Mags/Haymitch/Ever awesomeness!)


	13. Amiable

**Amiable**

* * *

a·mi·a·ble [ey-mee-uh-buhl]

–adjective

1. having or showing pleasant, good-natured personal qualities;affable: an amiable disposition.

2. friendly; sociable: an amiable greeting; an amiable gathering.

3. agreeable; willing to accept the wishes, decisions, or suggestions of another or others.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

Finnick and Ever are shivering as we walk into the District 4 Justice Building, but neither of them seem to care. "There better be good reason you two are half-dressed and soaking wet." Tanith says. _She's so annoying!_

"No sexual comments about my daughter Finnick!" I warn.

"Or else?"

"I'll rip off your manparts and shove them down your throat!"

"Oh, so you have experience touching manparts?" Finnick smirks.

My eyes widen, "No! No that's not what I was getting at all, I was-"

"But you _do _have experience. Is that why you and Chaff are so close? You're...you're gay lovers, aren't you!"

"No!"

"Then you have casual man sex with him!"

"What! That's disgusting! No!"

Finnick seems to be enjoying this, so he keeps going. "Then you must with Cinna?"

"I'm not gay!" Cinna and I shout in unison.

"But you must have experience grabbing the you-know-whats...you touc-"

"Finnick!" Mags warns. Annie is giggling like crazy, but Mags is clearly no longer amused.

Finnick doesn't finish that sentence and he starts a new one. "Then you must be bisexual."

"I am not!"

"When the last time you've slept with a man?"

"I have never!"

"What about a woman? You had to have slept with _someone _recently."

"Uh...no, actually."

Finnick's jaw drops. "How long has it been since you've...yenno."

"I'm not answering that question."

"You're gay. I knew it!"

"I'm not gay! Can't you all just go back to teasing me about my non-existent sex escapades with Raewyn? I mean, at least she's of the opposite sex."

"So you admit that you want to have sex with Raewyn."

I want to punch him in the jaw so badly, but I don't. "I never said _that_, I just said it's much nicer when you joke me sleeping with a woman instead of saying that I am in a gay relationship with Chaff or Cinna."

"Or both...at the same t-"

"Finnick!" This time it is Annie that screams it. Finnick immediately shuts up. _I wonder if something's going on there..._

Mayor Fishtail asks everybody to sit down to the feast and our small group makes out way to the table. I try to sit as far away from Finnick Odair as possible, plotting his slow and painful death the whole time.

* * *

_Ever..._

All of the food in District 4 is so different than anything I've had before- there is so much fish and other types of seafood and the bread is absolutely delicious with it's salty flavor. At first I made a face when I saw the seaweed, but Annie and Finnick assured me that it was delicious. I have already eaten three District 4 bread rolls before I've even tried any of the seafood.

Mags passes me a dish full of something called shrimp and a large bowl of a sauce that you're supposed eat shrimp with. I put a small amount of shrimp and sauce on my plate before accepting the plate Finnick is passing me. The creature is large and has a shell. It looks like an oddly shaped and mutated spider. I tell Finnick this and he laughs and explains that it is something called crab. I take one of the legs and place it and it's meat on my plate.

"Bluefin tuna." Annie explains as I eye the plate she has placed before me. "There's also two other kinds, but stick with bluefin for now."

I try some of the shrimp first and completely devour it. I find the crab meat equally delicious. The bluefin tuna is okay, but not the greatest. I tell Annie that I like it anyway, since she's just so sweet.

Daddy nudges me about halfway through the feast. "Be honest, how did you and Finnick get wet?"

"We went swimming. In the ocean."

He nods which means he heard what he wanted to hear, so he leaves me alone.

Mayor Fishtail stands up and raises his glass in the air. "Attention, everybody." He says with a grin. He leans over to get a better look and me then looks me in the eye. "I trust you are enjoying our feast, Ever?"

I reply like a little with a decent vocabulary would. "Of course. I haven't had seafood before, it's different, but it's hard to savor it because you just _have _to eat it as quickly as possible so you can get more."

This earns kind chuckles from all of the victors, including Mags, Finnick and Annie. "You haven't had seafood before?"

"Well...District 12 is kind of _not _near the ocean, so..."

Again, the victors chuckle. Mayor Fishtail grins. "Then we of District 4 welcome you, Ever Abernathy, Panem's newest victor to our fine home. To Ever!"

I sigh as everybody else responds with their 'To Ever!'s. Really, I'm getting so sick of hearing my name all the time.

"Ever. Ever. Ever!" Mags hisses.

"Huh, wha'?"

"Reach under the table slowly." I obey and slowly move my hand under the table. I touch something that feels like food. "Grab the food." I grab it and realize it is a cookie.

"Ha, thanks Mags!" I say as I eat the cookie.

Finnick gapes at the cookie. "What, no cookies for me?"

Mags smirks at him. "If you weren't such a jerk to Haymitch about his sex life then maybe I'd have cookies for you. But you were mean, so Haymitch can have yours."

Daddy sticks his tongue out at Finnick. "Oh, _real _mature." I say.

"I don't I need my twelve year old giving me lessons in maturity."

"I'm almost thirteen!"

"You're not allowed to turn thirteen." He laughs, messing up my hair. I roll my eyes and continue eating the cookie Mags gave me.

Annie starts randomly laughing. I look at Finnick, "What's so funny?"

He bites his lip. "She sometimes laughs for no reason. It's, uh..."

"I'm crazy Finnick. Admit it." She says with an optimistic grin but with sadness in her voice.

"You're not crazy." Finnick says sweetly.

"Yes I-"

"Not crazy," I say. "Maybe a little mentally-random or off, but I can name tons of people crazier than you."

Annie's sea green eyes brighten up at what I had just said. "Y-you really...for real?"

I smile sweetly, "Well, yeah!"

Finnick and Mags share approving looks with each other before smiling at Annie and I. _So this is another thing the arena can do. I have five separate examples of post-arena life:_

_1. Daddy, the drunk_

_2. Morphling addicts like Athena from District 6_

_3. Annie, slightly off because of the trauma_

_4. Raewyn, who Daddy said has become obsessed with bringing a tribute home each year; and_

_5. Most other Careers. They are so harsh and ruthless, almost like they don't care about anyone or are hollow._

They way I see it, there are possible ways for me to end up. I'm obviously not going to end up like Annie, since that should have happened already if it is going to, but what about the other four outcomes? I know I will not end up like the typical Career because I am not hollow. I have nightmares, hollow people don't have nightmares. I haven't tried getting drunk yet like Daddy. I'm not sure if I am obsessive like Raewyn, I guess I will find out when I mentor these upcoming Games. I haven't gotten my hands on any Morphling to try it yet, so I'm not sure if I will end up like that.

Not that I plan on trying any Morphling anytime soon.

But I guess you never know. Maybe having to watch two kids that are put under my charge die this years will send me over the edge. I know District 12 has no chance in winning the upcoming Games, the 73rd Games. I won by chance and am the third and second-living victor to come out of District 12. It will be another twenty-two years _at least _before we get our next victor.

That is a fact that hasn't really been proven, but who will tell me I am wrong? Who will disagree with me?

Maybe I will get some Morphling. Or maybe I can steal Chaff and Daddy's liquor.

Or maybe I can do the right thing and keep the promise I made to my father and try to become more like Raewyn, the woman who became obsessed with protecting her tributes.

Wow.

All of that from just being around Annie.


	14. Approbation

Thank you everybody for the reviews! I love them! Haha, I especially get a laugh or two from MegthextremeoverlordofdaWURLD, FlitterCherub, hungergamesforever123 and Haymitch's-minion-Padfoot. Even though the latter have potty mouths. And I can say that, becuase I know those two in real life :P

* * *

**Approbation**

* * *

ap·pro·ba·tion [ap-ruh-bey-shuhn] Show IPA

–noun

1. approval; commendation.

Synonyms: Praise, reverence; etc; etc

* * *

_Ever..._

The next morning is filled with goodbye handshakes and hugs from Finnick, Mags and Annie. At least _I _get hugs. Daddy is in no mood to hug Finnick after he questioned his sexual orientation last night. I still find that hilarious, even though it is the next morning.

I hug Mags first, then move on to Finnick he gives me a bone-crushing hug and tells me not to let the Careers in 1 and 2 get me. This of course, terrifies me and Daddy backhands Finnick like a teenage girl. I go to hug Annie, but she pulls away. "Here." She says, pulling a small hair accessory made with real seashells out of her hair. She looks at my hair which is in a messy bun and places the accessory- a small silver hair comb with seashells at the top- inside the mess of bobby pins holding my hair up.

My hands slowly move to my hair and I feel around until I touch the comb. "Thank you, Annie." I say with a grin. _Crazy people are nice._

She smiles. "My mother and I used to make them when I was little. You can keep it."

"Really?"

"Of course!"

"Thanks!"

* * *

_Haymitch..._

After we say goodbye to our friends in District 4, it is time to move on to District 3. I can tell Ever is nervous about it, even more so than District 9. I finally remember that it is because Zephyr Polyoxl and Zayna Code were from 3.

I open my mouth to ask her if she is okay, but I close it because I know what her answer will be. I sigh as she picks at the food on the train. "You have to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"Do you want to faint in front of everybody in District 3?"

"No."

"Then eat."

She mumbles something under her breath that I choose to ignore. She eats for a few minutes before looking up. "How much longer until I get to go home?"

"Are you that miserable, sweetheart?"

She nods. "The only person in 3 that I know is Beetee, and that still doesn't cancel out the fact that Zephyr and Zayna lived there. The whole district is going to hate me because they died and I lived, 2 is going to suck because it's a Career district and they'll be jerks. 1 will be terrible because I killed both of their tributes. I just want to go home! I miss Uncle Rexton and even Uncle Raphael. I just want to hang around with Damien and Kenton again...mostly Kenton."

_Mostly Kenton? What's _that_ supposed to mean? _"I get it, believe me. I was miserable on my Victory Tour, too. We'll be home in a few days, I promise. How about we skip sleeping in 3 and get 2 and 1 done today, too?"

She shakes her head. "I don't want to be rude to Beetee. We should at least stay the night in his district. But let's get 2 and 1 done tomorrow."

"You've got a deal sweetheart." She smiles and hugs me. I hug her back. _I miss her hugs. She used to hug me every time she saw me, but that is when she was a little girl. _I don't I have really noticed it before, but she has grown up since the Games. Or maybe I was just in denial about it until now. She even looks different now. She looks almost like a young woman. _No, please! It's too soon for her to be all grown up. _Each day she just seems to look more and more like her mother. Another painful reminder, but it's starting to not hurt as much. It's almost like my mind is letting me move on. I don't really want to, but I suppose it feels good to be allowed. "Ever?"

"Hm?"

I struggle to get the words out. I can't remember the last time I have told her. "I love you."

She seems a bit taken aback, but quickly recovers and says, "I love you too."

I laugh, "I really do, sweetheart. I know I don't say it enough."

"You don't have t-"

"Yes I do. I remember my parents never said it to my brother and I much. We both knew, but I just they'd reminded us every once in a while." She smiles and hugs me again, knowing the edited version of the story.

"I won't worry about having to remind my kids. I'm not having any."

"Well why not?"

"They're just as likely to get chosen for the Games as I was. My name was in there _once _and it got picked."

"That doesn't mean theirs will, too."

"Yours was. Mom's was. Mine was. It's foreshadowing."

"Rose volunteered."

"Either way, all three of us went. My kid would be royally f- screwed. So I never will."

I smile weakly. "That's the same thing I said, but then I had you."

"Yeah, and I was reaped."

"True...but don't just totally throw out the idea."

She smiles. "I'm going to get some rest."

"In the afternoon?"

"Uh huh."

* * *

_Ever..._

I lie awake in my bed on the train and delicately run my fingers along the token I took into the Arena less than a year ago. The silver chain with the two rings still looks the same and almost as if it hadn't been through a life-or-death battle with me. The smallest ring in a small silver one with a mockingjay engraved on it. It was passed down on my mother's side of the family to the oldest daughter for generations. The second ring is larger and was also my mother's token. It is the engagement ring my father gave to her when he proposed. From what he has always said, they were engaged since she was about three months pregnant with me. The ring is beautiful, a silver band with several small diamonds in a formation of a heart. It isn't large and obnoxious like those rings in the Capitol. It makes me sad sometimes, realizing that I never knew her. She must have been wonderful to bring out the romantic in Haymitch Abernathy. I can't help but to giggle at the idea that my father actually has a romantic bone in his body, considering the way he is now.

I giggle again as I think about how he should just own up to his feelings for a certain District 9 mentor. I hope Chaff brings Kieran and Miranda to the Capitol this year. They can help me make sure I'm not delusional when I see it.

I finally allow the chain and the rings to fall to my chest as I open the drawer beside the bed and pull out a music player. I've had it for about four years. Beetee invented it and he gave it to me during the Games four years ago. That is a bonus to being a victor's kid. You actually get to listen to music from the Old Civilizations and carry it with you wherever you go. As long as the songs don't have too many lyrics of rebellion, then it is fine with the Capitol.

I place the earphones in my ears, turn the music up full blast and lean against a pillow.

I'm not sure when I fell asleep, because the next thing I remember is being shaken awake by Tanith. She drags me to another room where Cinna and my prep team hurries to get me ready. Cinna tries to tell me that they will love me in District 3, but I don't believe him. They'll hate me. They always do.

I don't let the Peacekeepers lead me to the stage when I leave the train this time. I know where the stage is so I walk up to it. "Um, hey. This is most definitely the hardest speech thus far. Anybody who watched the Games would know how my relationship with your tributes was. I know a lot of you think it was just a strategy, but I'll tell you this- I'm smart enough, but I am too stupid to be able to do that. There is no way I would have been able to come up with such an alliance out of pure selfishness and will to live. The truth is, I really became friends with Zephyr and Zayna. We were too close for the Games. I don't wish I had died instead, because to say that would be very self-loathing. But I do wish that things could have been different and that neither of them had to die. I've no idea why we let our friendship go as far as it did. But we did and that's that. I'm sorry that they can't be standing here today...thank you." I nod to the crowd and am not expecting what happens next. In unison, the whole crowd claps. Not just the usual enforced by the Capitol claps. They are coming from the heart.

At this moment, all of my depression, angst, sorrow and fears about this District are lifted. It is almost as if they have accepted me as one of their own. For some reason I turn my head to look at the row of victors behind me. Beetee is smiling proudly at me- and why wouldn't he? He is friends with my father and all of his friends had a hand in raising me, so of course Beetee would be proud.

But it is a teary-eyed female that really catches my attention. I immediately decide that she is Zora Corg, Zayna's best friend. I feel bad for her. I pity her. The Games have cost her her best friend. Heck, she probably even mentored her to make sure she won.

Life in Panem isn't fair.

But that doesn't seem to matter right now.

I push my feelings of pity aside for when the Capitol cameras are off and it is okay to show pity. For now, I just let the crowd clap and cheer and take in this rare moment of acceptance. Even as I am exiting the stage and entering the Justice Building, they are clapping.

"I knew they would love you." Cinna whispers into my ear, squeezing my hand. I grin and squeeze his hand back. I just hope the victors are all as hospitable as the rest of the District.


	15. Imminent

**Imminent**

* * *

im·mi·nent [im-uh-nuhnt]

–adjective

1. likely to occur at any moment; impending: Her death isimminent.

2. projecting or leaning forward; overhanging.

* * *

_Ever..._

Once inside the Justice Building I meet all of the victors and shake their hands. When I get to Beetee he squeezes my hand and puts his other hand over mine. "Congratulations on winning." He says with a grin.

"Thank you...I truly am sorry about your tributes."

"Oh I know. That speech was more than enough to prove it." I am about to say something else, but Mayor Tryor asks everybody to take a seat.

Zora Corg takes her seat as far away from me as possible. I can't blame her, but I really wish she wouldn't act like I was an untouchable. I don't bite! The female victor sitting next to Beetee kindly reaches over to shake my hand. "Hi, I'm..." She trails off.

"Wiress." Beetee finishes.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Ever."

"Nice to meet you..."

"Too."

I notice how Wiress can't finish a sentence. It's kind of odd, but she seems nice enough. She and Beetee look a lot alike with the same extremely pale skin and black hair. She appears to be around my father's age while Beetee is just a little older. It isn't until now that I realize how young I am. Not counting the few victors I noticed in their twenties in other districts, most of them are in their thirties or older. That kind of makes me uncomfortable. I don't really want to have to carry around the reputation of youngest victor ever...pun not intended.

I feel someone tap me on the shoulder. "How many songs do you have on that music player now?" Beetee asks in a hushed voice, like a secret.

"I think I have like, eight hundred. It won't let me add more because I've used up all the space."

"I didn't even think there was eight hundred songs not banned by the Capitol. No matter, I'm working on one that holds three times as much data, including pictures and audiobooks."

I smile, "Really?"

"I am almost finished working on it. It should be done my the time you mentor this year so I'll bring one for you."

"For free?"

"Of course."

"What are you two whispering about?" Daddy asks, raising an eyebrow.

Beetee comes up with the simplest lie in the world. "Nothing."

"As long as you aren't teaching her inappropriate phrases..._again_." He glares.

"Haymitch, it's not my fault she heard me say mother f-"

"Beetee!" Wiress scolds, violently punching his arm.

"Ow, fine!"

I can't help but to laugh at how immature the adults are being. Mayor Tryor interrupts by giving his usual spiel about the new victor. I don't even pay attention because I truly don't care for the spiels anymore. Not that I don't love District 3, but I want to move on to 2, 1 and the Capitol so I can go home to 12.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

Not that District 3 isn't great- it's beyond amazing!- but I can see Ever wants to go home to her friends. Specifically Kenton. I don't blame her.

_Flashback_

_I walk upstairs to get Ever to come down- Tanith randomly showed up to bother her about her talent again. I hear voices coming from her room. _Funny, none of her friends are here. _I quietly creep up to her bedroom door which is cracked open. Ever is facing the window, I squint to see what she is looking at and see a familiar head of long messy black hair leaning in the window. I've always known her friends often climbed up to the roof to talk to her, but I only see one person._

_"That's completely unfair, did you at least deck her?" He asks, tossing one of Ever's stuffed animals into the air and catching it in one hand._

_"No." Ever says sadly. "I can't punch Ivy, Kenton."_

_"Why not? She deserves it! If she wasn't a girl-"_

_"Because it's her mom making her say that."_

_Kenton shakes his head, "She was saying things while you were still in the Capitol. Part of it's her."_

_"Like- like what?"_

_"Nothing too bad." He tosses the stuffed animal again._

_"Kenton." Ever warns._

_He sighs and repeats the thing with the stuffed animal. I think it's a habits of his, he always has something in his hands. __"She might have said a few things about how you were scaring her with how you were acting."_

_She stands up angrily. "What was I supposed to do? 24 go in, one comes out and I was trying not to get killed and be that one!"_

_I see him toss the stuffed animal onto her bed and move his arm and touch Ever's shoulder. "Sh, I know. Damien, Josh and I tried telling her that, but she wouldn't listen."_

_"But Josh hates me too."_

_"Not hate. Confused. He isn't quite sure what to think of you know. His mother is telling him one thing, the Capitol is feeding him and everyone else another view, and he's honestly thinking somewhere in between them both."_

_"Sounds confusing."_

_"Like I said, confused."_

_Ever pauses before asking him another question. "What do you honestly think of me?"_

_"Why does my opinion matter? Isn't the fact that I'm not avoiding you enough?"_

_"Well yes, but I'm curious."_

_"I think you are the same person who left for the Capitol that day at the reaping. Maybe you are a little different, but still the same to me." He says a bit lazily as his eyes look over the area near the window. He finds something else to fidget with, a black hair ribbon this time. He twirls it around his fingers while he waits for Ever to reply._

_"That's it?" _That's it? What does she mean 'that's it?'

_He smiles and continues twirling the ribbon around his fingers. "That's it. Contrary to what Ivy and Mrs. Hopeflame say, you aren't a freak."_

_I can't see Ever's face, but I assume she is smiling by now. "You know you don't have to hang in through the window, right? You can actually come inside."_

_"The roof is comfortable."_

_"Not when you have to lean over an open window." She reaches for his shirt and lifts it up. She points to his abdomen where I suppose he has mark from the windowsill. "See?"_

_"Fine." He slips inside so quietly that I wouldn't have heard from downstairs. Ever moves over on her bed so he can sit next to her. I can see the sides of both of their faces__ now which is better than the back of someone's head. Boys can't be trusted, not even sweet Kenton Rainriver._

_"Do you think what Ivy said at school Monday was true?"_

_"Absolutely not. You're beautiful, intelligent, hilarious and a good person. That's the complete opposite of what she said." _But Ivy's her best friend. Since when did they fight?

_"You mean it?"_

_"I don't lie. Except to adults." Ever laughs. "Ever, are you sure you want to dropout of the sixth grade?"_

_"I'm sure. I made that clear Tuesday, didn't I?"_

_"Yeah, but are you sure you want to dropout? You're too smart for that."_

_Ever shrugs. "'Most everyone drops out at some point. Damien did in the fourth grade and you did before the school year even began."_

_"That's different. We have to work to stay alive." He twirls the ribbon around his fingers vigorously._

_"I know, but I can't deal with Ivy and everybody else saying all of that stuff. Even the teachers look at me different."_

_"What do you tell Haymitch you do all day?"_

_"I tell him I go to school and keep to the places of the District I know he never goes."_

_"As in you avoid the Hob?"_

_"Exactly. Which sucks because that's where I would probably go."_

_"Me too."_

_"Please don't tell Daddy about Ivy, or that I dropped out."_

_"Little to late for that. Good morning, Haymitch." He says, looking at the door._

_End flashback_

I tried to get Ever to tell me about Ivy, but she hasn't said anything yet. I guess she and Kenton have it under control.

Silly Haymitch. Teenagers never have it under control.

* * *

_Ever..._

The next morning is filled with the usual goodbye handshakes, and Beetee even loosens up and hugs me. Very blondly I ask, "What district is next?"

"2 silly!" Tanith exclaims.

"Oh dear. Please shoot me."


	16. Apathetic

Sorry if this seems rushed! I just want to get D2 and D1 over with, then I'll do the Capitol and the return to 12.

Capitol and part of return to D12 should be out today too

* * *

**Apathetic**

* * *

ap·a·thet·ic [ap-uh-thet-ik]

–adjective

1. having or showing little or no emotion: apathetic behavior.

2. not interested or concerned; indifferent or unresponsive: anapathetic audience.

* * *

_Ever..._

"Do I really have to give another stupid speech?" I childishly ask Tanith.

"Of course you do. The Capitol-"

"Blah, blah, blah." I say before the Peacekeepers lead me up to the stage. The crowd of District 2 is the harshest of them all from what I have seen. They all look like they want nothing more than to punch me in the face. But I don't care and I turn off my anxiety and just give the stupid speech. "Hello. I can't really give the generic sob speech, because anyone who watched the Games would know how my relationship with Slate Fallon went. Randomly running into each other, him whipping out the scythe and threatening to kill me but never actually doing it...I found him odd. I don't want to come across as a mean person, but I am not sorry that I am the one standing here today. Feel free to hate me because quite frankly I. Don't. Care."

I abruptly turn to leave the stage. Tanith and Cinna have their faces buried in their hands and I smirk. Daddy as a bottle of something called vodka in his hand and is laughing hysterically. "Way to have a whole Career district wanting you dead sweetheart. I couldn't have done it better myself." I assume that is a drunken compliment so I just shrug and follow everybody into the Justice building.

I shake the hands of the victors. The amount of victors is considerably higher than in other districts. So far district 4 is the only one close to the amount of victors. I even notice a few that are in their early twenties. I don't try to befreind them though, considering I probably pissed them off with my less than considerate speech. I am right about pissing them off. The mayor doesn't even bother to go through his spiel.

That makes me smile.

A lot.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

After hardly eating anything in District 2, Ever insists on hurrying over to 1. Tanith desperately wants to stay the night in "this lovely, wealthy district!" but none of us want to. I am drunk, so I just go with whatever my daughter says. Cinna agrees with us.

"Three against o-one!" I tease drunkenly.

I don't even remember the train ride to 1 because I fell asleep. Well, more like I passed out drunk.

* * *

_Ever..._

With an exasperated sigh, I take the rest of Daddy's liquor once he "falls asleep" and hide it somewhere on the train. I know it doesn't matter what I do, he'll just buy more. I just suppose being sober for two hours is better than not at all. The train stops in District 1 right when Daddy is coming to. I smirk, knowing he has to pay for drinking with a hangover.

"You know the drill by now." A Peacekeepers says gruffly. I nod and unnecessarily follow him and one of his buddies.

I am certain that the crowd in District 1 is expecting me to cower because of the glares they are giving me. But I don't. To really piss off this crowd, I tell them my true feelings. "Hello District 1. You want an apology? You're not getting one. City and Trendy would have killed me if I didn't kill them first. The Hunger Games are all about the survival of the fittest. I'm sure everybody thought City and Trendy were members of the 'fittest' group. They were, I'll give them that. But they overestimated themselves, that is a mistake people like me who are at the bottom never make. It's a shame they had to die, they could have been really good homicidal maniac harvesters."

With that, I storm off the stage.

And I don't give a donkey's butt about what the crowd or the Victors think.


	17. Capitol Punishment

**Capitol Punishment**

* * *

This should define itself

* * *

_Ever..._

I watch the highlights of my victory tour with Caesar, or at least I pretend to. We arrived in the Capitol several hours ago and I am now even more anxious to return home to District 12. Tanith is right when she says how it is a poor district and isn't glamorous, but it's home and it's a safe place in my head.

I watch as snippets from each of my victory speeches are played. I keep my head down while watching my kind and sorrowful speeches but I smirk wickedly while I hear my Districts 2 and 1 speeches fly by.

I was brutal.

Maybe a little _too _ brutal.

But isn't that what they and the Capitol like? Brutality?

"So Ever Elizabeth, tell us about how it feels to be a victor." Caesar demands, pulling me out of my thoughts. I want to strangle him. Since I told hi maobut my middle name he has decided to pretend it is just one big first name.

I give the cameras a friendly smile anyway and answer the question honestly. "I'm just happy I'm alive." The Capitol audience demonstrates it's uncanny ability to turn everything someone says into a joke. I continue once the laughter stops, "I was so scared that I would die in there- twelve year olds never make it out alive you know."

"How does it feel being a second-generation victor?"

I giggle, which I know is what the audience wants. "I'm sorry, what was the question?"

"What is it like being a second-generation victor?"

"It really doesn't feel like anything special. I mean, being victors is now something my father and I have in common. Maybe it _is _a big something, but that is really all it feels like to me."

Caesar nods and asks another question. "How would you say your relationship with your father is now that you have won?"

"Like...what?"

"Does he treat you differently? More perks, maybe? You _are _equals now."

I genuinely laughs this time. "Equals? _Equals? _Hardly. He still thinks I'm his little girl- and no, Caesar. No extra perks, however, he doens't drink as much as he used to."

"Can we take that as a good sign?"

"Oh! Absolutely."

"What does Haymitch have to say about everything since you've been crowned victor?"

"Ah, nothing different than what I've been hearing my whole life. I guess he thinks different things sometimes, but he never voices them. He's told me he's proud of me before."

"We're all curious. What's the life of a victor kid like?"

"I'll let you in on a secret, Caesar."

"A secret?"

"Yes."

"Do tell!"

"Life as a victor's kid isn't any different than being a normal kid- as far as the parents go. In fact, in some cases, it may be even more difficult."

"Oh? How is it the same or more difficult then, hm?"

I take a breath so I can explain. "The victors are just parents and the kids are just normal children. We go to school, make friend, get in fights, get in trouble, get grounded and even have those I-hate-the-world days."

"Really!" Caesar seems to be in real shock and so does the audience.

I turn to them with a grin. "What? You thought we had it all candy canes and lollipops? Talk about cavities." The audience erupts into a fit of laughter. "Come one! That joke wasn't even that funny!"

"Is that your talent?"

"Excuse me?"

Caesar repeats himself slower this time. "Is..._that _your talent, Ms. Ever Elizabeth?"

"Comedy?"

"Yes!"

"Nope."

"Then what is it?"

I bite my lip. "Not telling."

"Please?"

"Oh...alright. I'll tell but no more talking about it afterwards, clear?"

"Crystal." Caesar obviously does not like a twelve year old girl calling the shots.

"For several year now my uncle Rexton has been giving me guitar lessons and I have been working on my voice."

"Will you sing please?"

I glare at him jokingly. "I thought I said no more discussion on my talent."

"I lied."

"I won't sing."

"Why not?"

"I'm too shy." The audience whines and Caesar keeps pressing until I say that I will sing. "Okay, but I'm warning you. I'm good but I do not have the voice of an angel."

I avoid looking to my left as I sing because that is where Cinna and Daddy are standing beside the stage.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

_Ever sings? _I think.

My eyes are glued to her. "This is a really old song from the American civilization." She explains.

_Easy come, easy go_  
_That's just how you live, oh_  
_Take, take, take it all_  
_But you never give_  
_Should've known you was trouble_  
_From the first kiss_  
_Had your eyes wide open_  
_Why were they open?_

___Gave you all I had_  
_And you tossed it in the trash_  
_You tossed it in the trash, you did_  
_To give me all your love_  
_Is all I ever asked_  
_Cause what you don't understand_  
_Is_

___I'd catch a grenade for you (yeah, yeah, yeah)_  
_Throw my hand on the blade for you (yeah, yeah, yeah)_  
_I'd jump in front of a train for you (yeah, yeah, yeah)_  
_You know I'd do anything for you (yeah, yeah, yeah)_  
_I would go through all this pain_  
_Take a bullet straight through my brain_  
_Yes, I would die for you, baby_  
_But you won't do the same_

_No, no, no, no_

_Black, black, black and blue_  
_Beat me 'til I'm numb_  
_Tell the devil I said "Hey" when you get back to where you're from_  
_Mad woman, bad woman_  
_That's just what you are_  
_Yeah, you smile in my face then rip the brakes out my car_

_Gave you all I had  
And you tossed it in the trash  
You tossed it in the trash, yes you did  
To give me all your love  
Is all I ever asked  
Cause what you don't understand  
Is_

_[Chorus]_  
I'd catch a grenade for you (yeah, yeah, yeah)  
Throw my hand on the blade for you (yeah, yeah, yeah)  
I'd jump in front of a train for you (yeah, yeah, yeah)  
You know I'd do anything for you (yeah, yeah, yeah)  
I would go through all this pain  
Take a bullet straight through my brain  
Yes, I would die for you, baby  
But you won't do the same

Abruptly, she stops.

"That's all I feel like singing."

* * *

Okay, my dad's kicking me off, so I'll post again tomorrow :) Haymitch/Ever moment next chapter, yay!


	18. Asylum

Haymitch kinda looses it in tihs chapter, he...he...he...

* * *

**Asylum**

* * *

a·sy·lum (-slm)

_n._

1. An institution for the care of people, especially those with physical or mental impairments, who require organized supervision or assistance.

2. A place offering protection and safety; a shelter.

3. A place, such as a church, formerly constituting an inviolable refuge for criminals or debtors.

4. The protection afforded by a sanctuary.

5. Protection and immunity from extradition granted by a government to a political refugee from another country.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

That's just depressing. I didn't know Ever could sing until like, ten minutes ago when Caesar and the _Capitol _convinced her to.

Epic.

Fail.

As a parent.

"Can we leave the Capitol now?" Ever pleads, tugging on my arm as if that adds effect to the puppy dog eyes.

I am no match for her puppy dog face. "Yes. Tanith will have to deal with it." Ever grins at my response. I can hear Chaff's hypocritical voice now-'_Haymitch, you are weak! You're in control, not your daughter.' 'Hey Daddy?' 'Yes, Miranda?' 'Can I dress like a hooker, have sex, and try meth?' 'Of course angel- wait, what!'_

I chuckle, realizing that all fathers are powerless against their daughters. Ever quickly gets comfortable once we are on the train. "I didn't know you could sing." I say, taking a sip from my coffee. Yes, for once it is not alcohol.

She blushes, "Well I'm not that good."

"Are you kidding? That was beautiful. You sounded just like your mo-" I stop myself there, not wanting to bring Rose up right now, especially not her singing voice and how Ever's matches it almost exactly. But I've already said something so Ever, of course, asks questions.

"Mom sang?"

"She loved it." I say, really wishing I had a bottle right now.

"I thought she just wrote songs, you know, those who can't sing- write!"

"No. She did both. She used to sing you to sleep- it was the only way we could get you to sleep." _Until she died. Then I had to just let you cry all night- neither of us got much sleep back then._

"Oh." She says quietly, looking down sadly.

"I didn't mean to upset you sweetheart."

"No, no you didn't upset me. Depress me a bit? Yeah. But not upset."

"Isn't depressing someone worse than upsetting them?"

"Depends," She says with a halfhearted smile. "Is it good to be depressed every once in a while? It's human, isn't it? It's proof that we are still alive. Or is it bad to even think about feeling depressed? Interesting thoughts, hm?"

I shrug. "I suppose depression is a normal phase of life." _Phase? Then how come my depression "phase" has lasted almost thirteen years? Psh. _"Ever sweetheart?"

"Yeah, Daddy?"

"You really do sing beautifully."

"Thanks, but you're my father. You have to be nice."

"No I don't. Ever stop tripping over your own feet, you look like a drunken sea lion."

"Hurtful!"

"Told you." I smirk. Ever and I both start laughing.

Tanith of course, disapproves of this exchange. "Haymitch are you trying to damage her self esteem?"

"Indeed."

* * *

_Ever..._

I fall asleep soon after mine and my father's conversation. It is a peaceful sleep at first, but the peace soon goes away..

_"Ever, Ever, Ever." I cringe at the voice. Robbie Hester is repeating my name like a scolding parent. It is pitch black and I cannot see anything. "Shame on you, Ever. You killed those kids and I died right next to you. Where's the sympathy? Do you feel no remorse?"_

_"Of course I do. I wish I never had to kill anybody, but-"_

_"Excuses, excuses."_

_"That wasn't an ex-"_

_"Uh uh! Hush! I don't want to hear your voice. I really should have killed you when I had the chance. Instead of standing there taunting you."_

_"That's your mistake."_

_I hear him unsheathe the sword at his side._

_"You can't hurt me here."_

_"Oh?" Asks Robbie, still masked by the blackness._

_"You're dead. I must be dreaming and all I have to do is open my eyes and you and that sword will go away."_

_"You're dreaming, hm?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Then open your eyes, Abernerdy."_

_I try to open my eyes and am expecting to see the lights from passing districts glowing on the train ceiling. "I-I can't wake up!"_

_Robbie laughs sinisterly. "What was that about this being just a dream, Ever Abernerdy?"_

_"I-I must be in a deep sleep. That's why I can't wake myself up."_

_"Have you considered that maybe, just maybe this _isn't _ a silly dream. That this is as real as it gets?" I can feel him moving closer. I can _feel _the cold blade touch the exposed skin of my arms and slowly trail down it. "Tell me. Does this feel like a bad dream to you, Ever, or does it feel real?"_

_"You can't hurt me here! Or anywhere! I won, I'm the victor!"_

_"Victors can still die, you know. They can be murdered just like anybody else." He puts some pressure on the blade of the sword. I don't feel the warm blood pour from a cut, but it feels as if he is about to stab me._

_"No! Stop it! Robbie stop it! I know you hate me but please, I'm just a kid!"_

_"Do you think that matters to me! Why should I let you go ohme and live a happy life while I die! Explain that to me right now!"_

_"I don't- I don't know how t-"_

_"Then you'll die!"_

_"NO! NO! NO! STOP IT! HELP! AHH!"_

My screams have obviously woken everybody up, including myself. I hear several pairs of feet scurrying around on the train. The door swings open and Daddy runs in and right to me. "Ever, what the hell? You just woke up half of Panem with that screaming...are the nightmares that bad?" He isn't triyng to be mean, he's just worried, tired and confused.

"N-not always. J-just this-s o-one." I realize I am crying. Daddy reaches up and wipes my tears away with his finger.

"Shh, sweetheart just relax. Nobody is going to hurt you anymore. Nothing in that arena can get to you unless you let it."

"That's easy for you to say! You weren't _there_."

His eyes widen. "I wasn't _there_? My only ally and district partner died in front of me. Dammit, I held her hand as she died! I watched her die!" He slams his fist down on the nightstand in anger. His anger isn't directed at me, but at the memory. "Dammit don't tell me it's easy for me to say. It isn't. I know it's a lie but maybe, just maybe you'll be foolish enough to believe it- if only for one moment. That one moment would be a moment of safety and hope that you'd never have otherwise. I wish I had someone to lie to me and tell me everything was going to be okay! I wish someone cared enough to lie because even false visions of rainbows are better than the harsh reality!"

"Daddy...I didn't know you held some girls hand while she-"

"It doesn't matter now. She's dead and whether it's my fault or not is debatable- I can't even decide for myself." He lashes out again and kicks the aforementioned nightstand. "Sometime I wish I'd just died in that arena! Sure I survived, but for what!" I realize he no longer realizes that I am here. I know he would never say that in front of his little girl. "What did I gain from it! The 'pleasure' of leading two kids off to die each year and tell them, 'oh sure, you'll live?' The 'joy' of making yearly trips to the place where my worst memories live? What is the gain in that!"

I put a hand on his shoulder to try to get him to focus back to reality but to no avail.

He again lashes out. "I've watched too many kids to count die and I could do nothing about it! Oh, victors are _so_ privileged! Shit, I even saw my fiancée off to her death!" His breakdown switches form angry to horridly sad. "Oh, gawd Rose! No, no, why? She had a right to live. No, no, no I couldn't save her. I promised Ever would never have t-" Again, he becomes angry. "But I couldn't even keep that promise! The last promise I made to her I couldn't keep! I couldn't protect my daughter from the Capitol and their sick, twisted Games! I've let everyone that has been stupid enough to put their trust in me-" He switches to sad again and I even see him tear up. No, he's like, legit crying. Head in hands, voice breaking _ crying_. "I couldn't save Rose and I couldn't protect my daughter...I fail at...everything."

"Daddy!" I shout literally in his face.

He snaps out of it and seems like he doesn't realize what just happened. "Ever?" He asks slowly.

I nearly tackle him in a hug and I cry harder than I already was. His breakdown spoke the truth. I feel really bad for him now.

"Ever, what are you-"

"Just hug." He hugs me back and messes with my hair. He knows that annoys me. "Glad to see you're sane again."

"I haven't been sane for twenty-two years."


	19. Awkward Moment

Kay:

1. I have writer's block, so this chapter is kinda blah

2. I'm running out of big words that describe chapters, so I'm going to keep searching Dictionary(.)c o m LOL

* * *

**Awkward Moment**

* * *

_Ever..._

I step off the trian and immediately throw my arms over my face. I hear a chuckle from behind me. "You're safe sweetheart. No cameras."

I breathe a sigh of relief and lower my arms. _Sleep. _That is the only thing on my mind right now. _Then again, that's not such a good idea. _The nightmares might come back. I've tried to forget my father's mental moment but it was just to weird to forget. I debate saying something, but decide that a no-speak policy is best. "Hey...I'm going to go see if Kenton is doing anything today."

"Go right ahead. Just be home before dark, or I'll start looking just for the joy of embarrassing you."

I roll my eyes. "See you around." I put the hood of my dark green hoodie up and start walking into town. I stop by the bakery where I find the oldest Mellark boy, Pryor. He nod his head to me. "Um, two cookies?"

"What kind."

"Chocolate chip?"

"1 dollar."

I slide him a five. "Keep the change."

He slides the five back. "We don't _need _your charity."

"It isn't charity Pryor. I just don't feel the need to carry tons of money on me. Keep the change." I say, sliding the money back to him.

"No."

"Please."

"No!"

"Just keep it."

"No!"

"Pryor, stop it!" Peeta says angrily, shooing him away. Peeta turns to me and smiles. "How was the Victory Tour?"

I groan. "I'm just glad to be home."

Peeta grabs two chocolate chip cookies.

"How'd you know?"

"That's why you come in here." He grins.

I smile, "Nice seeing you."

"Same here. Have a nice day."

_Nice day my foot. _I leave town and head for the Seam, cookie in hand, bag with other cookie in the other. I notice some Seam kids playing around in the coal dust invested streets. It's hard to think that my four best friends- no, now my only two friends- live here. Now that I think about it, my father grew up here. It's rather depressing to be here. Some of the houses look like they could fall apart while others look sturdy but unwelcoming. I want to turn around like I always do when I come here, but I see Kenton's house and hurry to the door. I manage to climb up to the roof above the first story to get to Kenton's window. He is on his bed reading one of the few books the Capitol allows District 12 people to read. I gently tap on the window. He lifts his head up and hurries to open the window. "What are you doing back? I thought you'd be gone for another day or so."

"Nope, I'm home early!"

"Awesome!"

"I know! Anyway, I've been bored out of my mind...do you think the fence has electricity today?"

"Doubt it. We had to have electricity for the Victory Tour and that took up most of the supply. There shouldn't be enough for the fence to operate. Why?"

I laugh at him. "And you're the smart one. I want to go to the woods today, dummy."

"Let's go then...is that a cookie?" He asks, pointing to the have eaten treat in my hand.

"Mm hm. Want the other cookie?"

"That's a stupid question. Of course I want the cookie." I hand it to him with a stupid grin.

We sneak off to the fence and expertly slip through the hole in it. We hurry to our favorite spot in the woods, a large oak tree growing beside a pond with a branch that could hold three or four people safely dangling above the pond. The only ways to get down from the branch were to ninja one's way out or to jump into the pond and swim. Despite those hurdles the tree has always been our "place." Neither of us have ever been brave enough to climb higher than the dangling branch, but that doesn't matter to us.

Kenton takes a bite out of the cookie I gave him. "Did you have as much fun as the Capitol made it look like you were?"

"Absolutely not. 11, 9 and 4 and 3 were the only good districts. The others were full of people wanting my head." I joke.

He frowns, "That's not very funny."

"True...hey Kenton?"

"Hm?"

"Are you nineteen yet?"

He laughs, "What kind of question is that? I turn _six_teen three months after you turn thirteen. I sigh sadly. "Why so...depressed-looking?"

"Because." I say, grabbing a leaf and tearing it to shreds.

"Aren't you the one that pushed me out of this tree into _that _pond when I tried to give 'because' as a legit answer?"

"No, that was some other Ever kid."

He chuckles, "Seriously, Ev. What's up?"

"You know I have to mentor this year, right?"

"Uh huh, right."

I sigh, "You're my best friend, like my brother and Damien is kind of my friend. What if one of you gets reaped? What do I do then?"

* * *

_Kenton..._

"You're my best friend, like my brother and Damien is kind of my friend. What if one of you gets reaped? What do I do then?" _Like her brother, huh? Kenton you idiot! She'd never be into you like that, plus, she's not even thirteen yet. Just give it up and transfer your affections to some Seam girl your own age...Ever's too good for you anywa- _ "Kenton?"

"Huh wha'?"

"Answer."

"Oh. Well, I'm not sure what'd you'd do. I wouldn't be able to do it."

"Right." She says slowly. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Whoa, whoa whoa what?" _Did she just-?_

"Do. You. Have. A. Girlfriend?"

"Why?"

"Because, you're rather gorgeous and I see the way girls look at you. Town and Seam girls alike. You have to like at least _one _of them."

This is so unexpected. "Well, there's someone."

"Who?"

_Lie Kenton, lie! _"Oh, just some girl."

"Where's she from?"

"Er, kinda from town, kinda not...?" She nods and asks more questions. I answer with, "Oh, yeah, you know her," "She's a little younger than me, yeah," "She knows I exist, I'd just never know how to go about talking to her like that."

Ever nods. "Should I talk to her?"

"No! No way. That'd be weird." _It isn't healthy to talk to yourself you know._

"Fine. But I will if you want."

"Nah, it's good." _It's better you're sane._


	20. Anamnesis

**Anamnesis**

* * *

an·am·ne·sis [an-am-nee-sis]

–noun, plural -ses [-seez]

1. the recollection or remembrance of the past; reminiscence.

* * *

_Ever..._

We leave the forbidden woods just before the sun starts to set. I've always been afraid of the woods at night so I grab onto his arm.

"It'll be dark by the time you get home. I can walk you if you'd like." Kenton offers like the genleman he has always been.

I smile, "Thanks but I don't want to be any trouble."

"Not at all." He says.

"Well okay then. It'd be nice to not have to walk alone. In the dark. Not that I'm afraid of the dark or anything."

"Then why do you sleep with that starfish night-light?"

I blush. "Be-because. Starfish are awesome, they're my heros."

"Sure, okay." He stops walking and moves aside so I can slip through the hole in the fence first. Once he's slipped through he let's me grab onto his arm again. "What do you want for your birthday?"

I won't lie. I am extremely shocked he asked. Everyone knows Seam kids don't have any money to spare on birthday presents for people with money. So instead of giving him and answer I just say, "What?"

"Your birthday present. From me."

"You don't have t-"

"Of course I do. It's your thirteenth birthday and you _need _presents when you turn thirteen. I mean, it's the rule!"

I smile and ponder. _What _can _I ask of him? It's not like he has plenty of money to spare. Especially not on me... _"What about something simple, nothing crazy?"

He just grins his signature grin and says, "Then I know just the thing. Today is April 13th, right?"

"Yep."

"I'll have your present ready by your birthday. So, you're thirteen in two days, huh?"

"Yep, April 15th. How was it, being thirteen?"

He shrugs. "Thirteen is when my parents started giving me more responsibilities, less restrictions but mess up once and you get twice as many restrictions put back on. But it was also a good age for me. I think you'll love it." I smile. "That was fast." He says.

I look up and realize we are at Victor's Village. _Already? _"So soon? I was having fun just talking to you."

He smiles mischievously. "Well I could just climb up on the roof and chill in the window."

"Sounds like a plan. Just don't let the Peacekeepers catch you out after curfew."

"Curfew schmurfew."

* * *

_Haymitch..._

I swear loudly as I cut myself with the kitchen knife. How Ever can use those things on a daily basis is beyond me. Surprisingly, I am actually doing what Ever told me to for once. I have the little folder filled with handwritten papers open on the counter. The paper labeled 'Broccoli pork stir-fry' is pulled from the folder and is on top. I cut myself trying to 'thinly cut' the meat.

The door opens and closes with a slam. "This is an invasion! I've come to take over your planet and steal your children."

"Good luck with that." I say, running my finger under lukewarm water.

"Did you cut yourself again?"

"Maybe." I say, leaning over the sink to hide it.

"Here." Ever (thankfully) takes over the cooking.

"You seem to have it under control, so I'm just going to go...not here."

"Don't go in my room, it's a mess."

"Then clean it, genius." I say, leaving the kitchen.

_Ah, it's good to be home and back to normal. Even if 'home' happens to be the poorest district ever. Haha, ever. Someone really needs to invent a new word for that...I'm bored. Vodka time!_

_No, no wait. I should probably stop drinking so much, I mean, I promised. Okay, how about instead of vodka time we can have 'let's piss off Ever time?' _

Works for me. I tiptoe upstairs and walk toward her room "No, I probably shouldn't. Oh but it's so tempting. But it's mean. Ah, yes but the fun cancels it out." I sigh, "You know what! Mean Haymitch needs to shut up!"

Deciding not to go into her forbidden room I decide to grab another jacket from the hall closet. _Is it just me or do Ever and I really need to get into the habit of turning up the thermostat? _

As I move a few things around in there something falls on my head. "The the- oh my gosh." Abandoning the search for a warmer jacket, I crouch down and pick up what had just fallen down. A small envelope filled with pictures from fourteen years ago is lying on the floor with some of its contents scattered around the floor nearby. I recognize them from before Ever was even born. "I remember these." In spite of myself, I smile.

_Flashback_

_"Rose get the thing away from me, you know I hate cameras." I grumble._

_Rose giggles like a little kid. "I know, that's _why _I stole it from Sage this morning. To piss _you _off."_

_"Oh wow, I'm so happy I'm in love with the nicest person in the world." I say sarcastically._

_Rose giggles and sets the camera down before sitting next to me on the couch and slipping herself into my arms. "You're warm." She mumbles, eyes closed._

_"Really? Because you're freezing." She goes to sit up before I gently push her back. "I didn't say I didn't like it sweetheart."_

_"Good, because I'm enjoying this." She leans up and kisses me. I return it and almost don't notice the flash of light._

_I gasp. "You didn't."_

_"Oh but I did." She says as the picture slips from the camera. She grabs it and teasingly waves it in front of my face before standing up/_

_"No, no you're fine. I'm not gonna hurt ya."_

_"That's what you always say before you-" __I lunge at her and hold her to where she can't move. She sequels and tries to kick me. "Before you do _that_!"_

_I let her go. "No more."_

_"Promise."_

_"Promise promise?"_

_"Promise promise." _Flash!_ "I lied."_

_I grin, despite the fact I find cameras exceedingly annoying. It's hard to be mad at brown hair brown-eyed Rose. "Fine," I finally say. "But you're hiding those."_

_"Sure, sure okay."_

_End Flashback_

I hear a soft knock on the wall behind me. "Um, hello? Dinner's ready and you left my room alone, right?"

"Yes, didn't touch it." I hasten to stash the envelope back in the closet. I hear a soft tap as something hits the ground but I think nothing of it.

* * *

_Ever..._

I've already eaten my dinner- sort of. Let's just say I took the liberty of constant taste-testing. I see and hear one of the small papers hit the floor. Daddy doesn't seem to notice it so when he walks away I bend down to pick it up. I am surprised to find that is isn't a piece of paper but is instead a small photograph.

It is of a single person, a young woman with long semi-wavy semi-curly brown hair and chocolate brown eyes. She's looks to be smiling, but also isn't. I decide that the woman must be laughing and that she isn't really a woman after all. She looks to be about sixteen or seventeen. At first, I am completely confused as to who she may be until it hits me. This is a photograph of my mother. I consider throwing it in the closet somewhere or maybe handing it to my father. I take another look at it. _She was beautiful. I wish I was that pretty. _

On second thought I think I will keep the picture for myself. Daddy won't mind.

I take it and hurry to my room. On my nightstand there is a small framed picture of my ex-best friend Ivy Hopeflame and I. Without hesitation I removed the picture of us, toss it to the floor and replace it with the one of my mom.

_Tap, tap, tap._

I grin and open the window for Kenton.

"Whoa. That's new Who's that?" He asks, pointing to the picture.

Shly I say, "My mom."

"Your mom was hot." He gasps, realizing what he'd just said. We look at each other funny and in unison, "Awkward."

I bend down and pick up the one of Ivy and I. "Here. Take care of this one, I never want to see it again."

He gently passes it back to me. "Don't burn your bridges, Ever."

"I don't need that particular one anymore." I say, giving him the picture.

He again, returns it. "You never know."

I once again pass it back. "_She _broke of the friendship with _me_, remember?"

He shrugs and opens the nightstand drawer. He moves a few things aside and puts the picture face up underneath everything else. "Just keep it there. You never know for sure."

"I guess you're right."

"I _know _I'm right." He smirks.

Maybe he really _is_ right. Ivy will come around eventually...right?

* * *

**Just some notes:**

**I have FOUND more cool words! *happy dances***

**.**

**YES I am well aware that Panem is WAY in the future and cameras that slip the picture out are sooo old, BUT let's just pretend that the Panem inventor people (District 3- Wiress and Beetee FTW!) came up with a really cool high-tech one that does that.**

.

**I got this random quote idea from reading 'Volts' by Heart the Squid. Seems like several people 'borrowed' the idea...trendsetting is good!**

**Random Quote of the day:**

**[while walking around the lake]**

**Paden: *picks up earthworm after digging in the dirt and throws it on me* Earthworm rape!**

**.**

**Also, I am advertising a few _amazing _fics I've read. Read them or I will send my army of flying cheese after you. If you haven't already, check out Love and War by November92009 and D e a t h by Midnight Cheesecake O.o**

**.**

**That is all, you may review and/or flame now :]**


	21. Adherence

Whoo! It's Ever's birthday!

Oh oh and happy birthday to Arrowson- sort of. Thier birthday is April 15th, too!

AND I have a facebook 'like' page: Booksandmusic97-Fanfiction

* * *

**Adherence**

* * *

ad·her·ence [ad-heer-uhns, -her-]

–noun

1. the quality of adhering; steady devotion, support, allegiance, or attachment: adherence to a party; rigid adherence to rules.

* * *

_Ever..._

Today is April 15th, my thirteenth birthday.

Oh my gosh! Today is April 15th!

I throw the mass of blankets off me and run to the stairs. I slide down on the banister like I always do. "Good morning!" I say cheerily.

Daddy is drinking coffee instead of alcohol this morning. He smiles, "Why are you so happy this morning?"

"Wha'? Isn't there something you should be remembering?"

"No, I think I remembered to shower this morning."

"Good for you, but come on Daddy! Today is important?"

"April 15th? What about it?"

"Daddy!"

He laughs, "I'm just messing with you, happy birthday Ever." I smile. "So have you figured out what you want for your birthday?"

I let out a sound of irritation. "Not you too!"

"What?"

"Kenton asked me that two days ago and now I feel guilty that he's getting me something."

He passes me a glass of water and says, "Kenton wants to get you a present?"

"Uh huh."

"Hm."

* * *

_Haymitch..._

Kenton wants to get you a present?"

"Uh huh."

"Hm." _A boy getting my little girl a birthday present? Some serious S is about to go down! _"What did you tell him?"

"Something simple."

"Well that's not broad at all." I say sarcastically.

Ever shrugs and yawns and gets up. "Do we have any actual food in the pantry?"

"Uh, I think we have peanut butter on the-" from the corner of my eye I see Ever climb on the shelves to reach the peanut butter. "Top shelf." She prances back to the table and starts eating peanut butter straight from the jar. "That's gross."

"Oh, and drinking 'till you're sick isn't?" She retorts.

"Touché." She smiles triumphantly.

* * *

_Ever..._

"How does thirteen feel?" Daddy asks.

I shrug, "I dunno. I don't feel any older, is that normal?"

"I'm not sure. I felt older than thirteen when I turned thirteen, but things were different for me growing up."

I nod and eat more peanut butter. "Do you feel old?" I ask with a giggle.

"Why would I feel old?"

"Your baby is thirteen today!"

He smiles, "Not as old as I'd feel if you were sixteen." He laughs with me. "So really, what do you want for your birthday?"

My eyes automatically glance around the kitchen. He should know what I am going to ask him to do. _There has to be a bottle somewhere..._ I finally find a half empty bottle of vodka sitting on the counter. I point to it and look him in the eye. "Stop."

His reaction is what I expected. He tenses up and his eyes slowly move to look at the bottle. "Ever come o-"

"Daddy. Being an alcoholic isn't healthy for you and isn't good for me to be around."

"I'm not an alcoholic, I'm a drunk! Alcoholics go to meetings!"

I cross my arms over my chest. "Daddy."

"Alright. Alright. I'll try to stop." I glare at him. "No, really! This time for real." He gets up and pours that bottle down the sink.

"I'm going to go visit Uncle Rexton. I want all the alcohol gone by the time I get home."

"Yeah, okay. Sure."

* * *

_Haymitch..._

_Since when did my twelve year old call the shots? Okay she isn't twelve anymore, but still. I'm the adult, not her!_

I open the freezer and grab as many bottles as I can and pour them down the sink. _I guess I should stop drinking, anyway. Still. The twelve year old isn't boss._

"Oh!" The fact that she isn't twelve anymore finally hits me. _This cannot be happening. Like not for real! She isn't even old enough to be thirteen...that didn't make sense. _I still remember the day she was born, when she first smiled, first walked, said her first word- not she's little miss 'I'm in charge.'

_Where did the years go?_

I look down at the stream of clear liquid cascading from the bottles I have in either hand. _That's where._

* * *

_Ever..._

I walk home after visiting the younger of my two uncles. I walk in the door, dreading what I will see. My father will certainly be passed out drunk with the knife he always sleeps with in his hand.

Imagine my surprise when I see him standing in the kitchen with a glass of _water_. I smile, "So you did it?"

He nods. "I'll really try this time."

I give him a bone-crushing hug. "Thank you."

* * *

_Kenton..._

"Here's the black string you asked for." My sister Yadira says, skipping into my room. Yes, skipping. That's seven year olds for you. I thank her and wave her off. Yadira smiles and teases, "You're trying to make it perfect for your _girlfriend_."

I blush and my palms get sweaty. "Wh-who said Ever was my girlfriend?"

"You wish she was."

"D-do not! She's a girl...who happens to be my friend."

"Liar, liar pants on fire-"

"Yadi!"

"Hanging from a train tire!"

"That doesn't even make any sense!" I argue back, shoving Yadi out.

"I telling mom!" She shouts as I shut and lock the door. I roll my eyes. I respect my mother but do not fear her. The only one of my brothers that feared her is Kaleb...and he and my sister Yeva have been dead for years.

Pushing thoughts of Kaleb, Yeva and Yadi aside, I get back to work on Ever's present.

I carefully wrap Ever's present in a small black cloth and stuff it in my game bag. It took me two days to finish it, it is done. Yesterday, I was finally able to get Ever to accept the fact that she is getting something from me whether she wants it or not. She kept insisting she didn't need anything (like I didn't already know that) but girls can always use a few random things around.

Was that sexist?

It wasn't supposed to be, it's just an observation.

* * *

_Ever..._

It seems like every ten seconds I am checking the clock on my wall. Kenton said yesterday he would be able to sneak to the window at around ten o' clock. _It is only nine fifteen; I guess I have time to take a nap._

Big mistake. The moment I fall asleep it feels like I am plagued with nightmares. This time, they are different.

_I see two laughing girls in a meadow. No, not just _a _meadow. _The _meadow. The one in District 12. _

_It isn't until I get a closer look that I see those two girls are myself and Ivy Hopeflame. We look to be about six years old, no older than eight. This whole scene is scary because I remember this day in the Meadow._

_Ivy giggles, "I almost have your flower necklace done, Ever!"_

_I giggle too, "Yours _is _finished!" I giggle again and place it over her head. _

_Ivy puts designing mine on hold while she admires it. "It's pretty, thank you!"_

_"Now get to work, silly."_

_"Hehe, okay!" She uproots more flowers and ties them together using the stems. We gossip about foolish six year old things while she works. Finally, "There!" She hands it to me so I can put it on myself._

_"I like it!"_

_"They're our friendship necklaces! Friends forever!"_

_"That's right!"_

_"Secret handshake!" Ivy commands. We do our secret handshake to make 'friends forever' a promise._

_"And we'll always be friends, right Ivy?" I ask, knowing what her answer will be_

_"Right!" _

_I get a mischievous look in my eye and tackle her. We begin to engage in 'mortal combat' right there in the Meadow. We shout things at each other like, 'I'm gonna wi-in,' and 'You're going down!' _

_"You're going down!" I shout at Ivy, tackling her this time, while she is standing up. We crash into the nice soft grass. "Time to eliminate you!" I giggle._

_The six year old me suddenly freezes, her (my?) face still twisted in laughter. Six year old Ivy however doesn't stop. Instead, she suddenly focuses on the real me, the thirteen year old me. She smiles, but it is one of those psychotic smiles that make your stomach turn and your blood curdle. Ivy soon starts to change in appearance. She still look like a small child, but now looks somewhat...evil. Her eyes- instead of Seam grey- are pitch black and lack an iris. Her psychotic smile is plastered on her face. Slowly, she makes her way to me. "See? Right there."_

_I want to scream. Her voice...it just sounds so...demonic. I said I wanted to scream, so I do. At least, I try. No sound will come out._

_"You had violent impulses even then." She scoffs. "How could I ever have been friends with a murderer?" Her hands slowly make their way to her neck. She tugs on the friendship necklace and destroys it._

_I don't know why, but this makes me tear up. Finally, my dreams will allow me to speak. "Ivy-"_

_"Don't speak! You don't have the right!"_

_Suddenly, a dark cloud appears ins the sky. Six year old Ever fades into nothing and soon, the nightmare-ish images of everybody I care about come forward like an army._

_Ivy's army._

_Joshua Hopeflame- "Monster!"_

_Damien Gilead- "It's a wonder I'm not dead yet. Freak."_

_Kenton- "You used to be so wonderful..."_

_Raewyn- "Avenging your mother's death was the worst mistake of my life. Had I known her daughter would grow up to be a killer...*scoffs* I'd have offed her myself!_

_Chaff- "To think I ever thought of you as family is just despicable."_

_Seeder- "If there is a hell, you're headed for it!"_

_Kieran- "All those times we play fought...I didn't know it was practice. I helped create a killer."_

_Miranda- "I went shopping with a killer..."_

_Finnick- He says nothing, he just stares at me as if he can see through me._

_Mags- "Surrogate granddaughter? Surrogate granddaughter my ass. A cold-blooded ruthless killer. That's what you are."_

_Annie- She is silent, too._

_Daddy- "My little girl. My sweet, innocent baby girl. Where'd she go? Now she is _this_!_

_"NO! No, please stop! I'm still your little girl, I'm still."_

_Beetee- "A killer!"_

_"I'm not a killer!"_

_Everyone- "Killer!"_

_"No! No!"_

_Bang! Bang!_

I wake up sweating as usual. I look to my window. "Kenton!" I whisper loudly and happily. I hurry to open the window.

"Ever! Are you okay? I could hear you yelling and thrashing around form out there."

"I'm fine I lie."

"Oh?"

"No, not really!" I cry, immediately hugging him.

He isn't phased by this, in fact, he seems to enjoy it. _Wonder why he's cool with this. _He gently presses my head to his chest. "Nightmares?"

"Uh huh."

He takes a small piece of my hair and twirls it around his index finger. I'm glad it has grown back out since the Games, or else he'd have nothing to fidget with. "What was this one about?"

"You don't want to know." I say, trying to hide my breaking voice.

"I do." He says sweetly.

I break down and tell him everything.

"You know I don't hate you. Neither does Haymitch."

"How do you know for sure?"

He puts my head between his hands and lifts it up to face him. Our faces are inches apart when he says, "You are a kind, beautiful and intelligent girl. How anybody can hate you is beyond me. It must be jealousy- okay, so maybe people _can _ hate you, but let them think what they want. Haymitch is your father and he will always love you. So will I." Quickly he adds, "As your best friend."

I smile and hugs him again. "Thanks Kenton, you cheered me up. Now how about the present?"

He laughs and reaches into his game bag. He pulls out something wrapped in a tiny black cloth and hands it to me. I slowly unwrap it. Out falls a tiny bracelet with a small carved E with an even smaller and delicately carved image of a star fish on the E dangling off the bracelet. Kind of like a charm bracelet but only made to hold the one. The bracelet part of it is made out of black and white string complicatedly woven together. The only thing I can think is beautiful.

"Kenton...did you- did you make this?"

He grins sheepishly. "Spent two days on it."

"What! Really? For- for me?"

"Of course. You need something special for your thirteenth birthday."

I stare at the E pendant for a moment. "Who did you have make the 'E'?"

"I am, I actually carved that myself."

"What? Starfish and all?"

"Starfish and all. I cut myself a few times, but it didn't really hurt after the fifth time."

"Starfish...what made you think of starfish?"

"In the woods two days ago. When I was badgering you about being afraid of the dark?"

"Starfish night light?"

He nods and quotes me, "'Starfish are my heros.'"

I put the bracelet on and once again, hug him.

"I take it you like it?"

"Like it? Of course not. I love it, thank you!"

"It was no trouble."

* * *

_Kenton..._

"I take it you like it?"

"Like it? Of course not. I love it, thank you!"

"It was no trouble." _Really no trouble._

"You didn't have to, you know."

"I know, but I wanted to."

"Thanks again, Kenton."

"Anytime." I say with a smile. _Absolutely anytime, anything...doesn't have to be material._

I mentally slap myself. _Idiot Kenton._

* * *

**Just some notes:**

**.**

**I got this random quote idea from reading 'Volts' by Heart the Squid. Seems like several people 'borrowed' the idea...trendsetting is good!**

**Random Quote of the day:**

**My 8 yr old brother: What's intercourse?**

**Me: Something you shouldn't know about until you're my age. You know what? Not even then!**

**.**

**Read Flight of a Broken Mockingjay! :)**

**.**

**Like me on Facebook :)**

**.**

**That is all, you may review and/or flame now :]**


	22. Inamorata

Facebook 'like' page: Booksandmusic97-Fanfiction

LOL note how Haymitch is very hypocritical in this chapter with his use of 'cradle-robber.' hahaha and Ever is just so naive about her best friend's feelings XD XD XD

* * *

**Inamorata**

* * *

in·am·o·ra·ta [in-am-uh-rah-tuh, in-am-]

–noun, plural -tas.

1. a woman(or girl) who loves and/or is loved

* * *

_Haymitch..._

I wake up at night to Ever's terrified screams. _Not another nightmare! _I think. I get up and walk across the hall to her room, but it seems there is already someone in there.

"You know I don't hate you. Neither does Haymitch." Says the person, a boy. _What the F is a boy doing in my daughter's bedroom at ten o' clock!_

"How do you know for sure?" Ever asks him.

"You are a kind, beautiful and intelligent girl. How anybody can hate you is beyond me. It must be jealousy-" _Kenton. That's who it is! _"Okay, so maybe people _can _hate you, but let them think what they want. Haymitch is your father and he will always love you. So will I." Quickly he adds, "As your best friend." _Yeah okay. 'I'll love you as my best friend my ass!_ I peek into her room through the crack in the door and see that thier faces are inches apart. _Don't even think about kissing her you perverted son of a-_

"Thanks Kenton, you cheered me up. Now how about the present?" Ever asks him. He pulls out something in a black cloth from his game bag. I can't see it, but from Ever's reaction it is completely beautiful the whatever-it-is. _Handmade? _I think as I listen to their conversation. _What is that tuna-eyed pisshugger playing at? _"You didn't have to, you know." Ever says to him.

"I know, but I wanted to." _Or and I'm sure there's a whole lot of other things you'd love to do to her! I have half a mind to bust in that room and kick your cradle-robbing daughter-stealing-_

"Thanks again, Kenton." _But I won't because then Ever will know I was listening. _

"Anytime." _Hm, I don't think I can make anything perverted out of that. _"I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Oh wait, actually, can you stay until I fall asleep?" _What the-!_

Kenton sits back down on her bed. "Don't you think Haymitch will be mad?" _Smart boy! Good cradle-robbing Kenton!_

"Yes but I'll wake up by the time he finds out." _Hm, not to self- never trust Ever again._

"Alright...but he finds out and I get my butt kicked I'm blaming you."

Ever just nods and moves over so he can have room. "That is okay." _Note to self two- is possible, find Ever a smaller bed so no boys can fit in it. _"It's not like we're having sex or anything, we're just friend." _Whoa, what!_

"Right." Kenton agrees. _Oh hell nah! You might be having sex right now but I know what's going through that teenage boy head of yours! You'd better get rid of those thoughts about my little girl before I cut your throat open and use your blood as syrup on my pancakes! Or better yet, rig the Reaping and write your name on every. Single. Solitary. Slip. _"It isn't like I'd try to do anything." _Yeah, okay. I'll believe that...never!_

I hear someone move on her bed and look closer. Ever is moving closer to Kenton than she already is. Not only moving closer, but _leaning against _him. "You're a good pillow." She says through a yawn. _Yeah he's a pillow to you, Ever, but he is thinking something else! Ugh, I can't watch anymore. _I creep away from here room, careful not to step on the one floorboard that creaks.

* * *

_Ever..._

I wake up to the sun streaming in through my still open window. I guess I should have remembered to close it, oh well. I breath in the familiar and safe scent of Kenton's jacket. Wait. Kenton jacket?

I am shocked when I look up and realize he is still her. _Must've fallen asleep here. He was probably worried...such a good friend._

I shake him awake. "Kenton. Kenton, wake up."

"Hm?" He gasps, realizing where he is. "Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry, I didn't know I fell asleep here." He starts to get up but I pull him back down.

"Stay. I like having you here." _He's so gorgeous...how come I never noticed that before?_

"And I like being around you but Haymitch is going to assume things."

"I'll come up with a lie." I say. Reluctantly, Kenton agrees and we walk downstairs together. "'Morning Daddy!" I say cheerily, giving him a hug.

He look up at the two of us. "'Morning. Where'd you come from?" He asks Kenton.

I giggle, "He decided to scare me this morning and woke me up by banging on the window."

Kenton plays along, "Yeah it was pretty funny to hear her scream like a girl."

"I _am _a girl, stupid."

He just grins, "Nice to see you, Haymitch."

* * *

_Haymitch..._

"Nice to see you, Haymitch."

"Yeah. Great seeing you too." _But I'd much prefer to see you lying on the floor in a puddle of- no, no maybe that's a bit too mean. _"You two behaving yourselves?"

"Of course we are!" They say in unison, Kenton getting a 'look' in his eyes. _Sneaky son of a batch of cookies!_

* * *

**Random Quote of the day:**

**(At church during the sermon- sermon was on spiritual maturity and Pastor brought up those Cheez-it commercials)**

**Pastor: God wants to make you a Cheez-it!**

**.**

**That is all, you may review and/or flame now :]**


	23. Trepidation

**Trepidation**

* * *

trep·i·da·tion [trep-i-dey-shuhn]

–noun

1. tremulous fear, alarm, or agitation; perturbation.

* * *

_One month, three weeks later..._

_Ever..._

I wake up earlier than usual on the morning of June 23rd. I don't think I will ever forget that date. I slide down the banister like I do every morning and obnoxiously shout, "Hey Daddy I'm going to go-"

"You're not going anywhere, Ms. Abernathy." Says a male voice that isn't my father's. I wrinkle my nose at the smell of blood and roses and look up at my father who is standing by the sink. His face his pale and filled with worry. "Have a seat, Elizabeth Abernathy."

I don't sit, I just stand there.

Snow seems shocked. "I thought Elizabeth is you Capitol name."

"It- it is, Sn- President Snow. I just was not expecting to hear it today, that's all."

"Well then have a seat." _Snow asking me to have a seat in our home? That's messed up. _I sit down across from Snow at the table. He turns to my father by the sink. "Haymitch, do you think you can spare anything to drink?"

"We- we have water." He says, trying not to seem afraid. _Why should he be worried?_

"Really, then? I know for a fact that you have a..._drinking _habit."

"I've actually not had alcohol in almost two months."

"Sobriety?"

Daddy nods and cracks a smile. "Ever asked me to."

Snow shrugs, "Drinks aren't needed for this anyway. Haymitch, would you mind giving your daughter and I some privacy?" I look my father in the eyes and silently beg him not to leave me with Snow.

"I'd- I'd rather not."

"That wasn't really a question."

"Anything you have to say to my daughter you can say in front of me!" He shouts, suddenly getting some courage. Snow snaps his fingers at two Peacekeepers I hadn't noticed until now. The two of them point their guns at my father and escort him out. I swallow, scared out of my wits. My frightened eyes meet the cold, unforgiving eyes of Panem's president for a second before they dart away in some unknown direction.

"Listen Elizabeth, there is an important matter I'd like to discuss."

"Yes, yes of course."

"I am going to make an offer that I only make to the most popular, most requested, most _desirable _victors."

"What is it?"

"I am offering you the position of courtesan."

_What the heck is a- _"A what?"

"A courtesan."

"Still lost." I say with a shy smile.

He leans in closer and almost whispers, "There are some rich men in the Capitol willing to pay big money to take you for a night."

I finally understand. "You want me to be a Capitol whore!" I accuse rather than ask. "Sir, I decline! Courteously." I add.

Snow stands up angrily and slams his palm down on the table. "I don't think I amde myself clear, Elizabeth. You _will _be a courtesan to the men of the Capitol."

"Why should I! Those men are sick! Only mentally ill people would pay to sleep with a thirteen year old girl!"

"You have no say in this matter!"

"Oh?" I retort angrily.

Snow gets this glint in his eyes that takes my breath away- not in a good way. It is almost as if I am afraid to breathe. As if the tiniest motion will disrupt the universe. "I will tell you the same thing I told your father after your victory. I can make you an orphan with two words. I can make him a grieving father with three."

That sets me off. "Don't you dare! Don't even _think _about hurting him, my father never did anything to you!"

Snow scoffs, "You naive child."

I snarl at him like an animal. "Monster! You wicked sorry excuse for a man!"

Snow is unphased by my insults. "Do you think I care about whether somebody hurt me or not? If you do not do what I say, your father will pay for your mistakes."

My face is pale. _This isn't fair! Put myself through suffering...or let my father die... _I take a deep breath. "Okay. I'll do whatever you want. May I make an exception?"

"I'll humor you."

"Don't make me a prostitute. At least not yet. Wait until I am just a little older, sir. I am only a child and-"

"Declined. When you come to the Capitol as a mentor, you will be called away at certain times to fulfill your job. You will only be called away a small number of times to minimize suspicion. You will tell nobody and if you do, I will find out about it and _daddy_" Snow says the word like a curse "-pays the price."

I blink to hold back the burning tears. "Y-yes sir Mr. President."

He grins, almost sweetly. Almost. "Perfect. You know, you're as lovely as your mother was. Pity she's dead. See you in the Capitol, lovely Little Rose."

* * *

_Haymitch..._

Snow and the Peacekeepers leave rather abruptly. Ever runs out of the kitchen, past me, up the stairs and I hear her bedroom door slam. _What did Snow say to her..._

I run upstairs after her and run into her room. "Oh my- Ever what did he say to you!"

"N-nothing." She says, her voice muffled into her pillows.

"Don't lie to me!"

"I c- I can't tell you!" She says, sitting up, eyes red with tears.

I'm pissed now. Not at her, but at Snow. "Why not, sweetheart!"

"B-b-because! Snow said...he said I'd regret it if I told anybody."

I sit on the foot of her bed and she inches closer. I pull her into a hug and kiss the top of her head. "Sh, you can tell me, you know. You can always tell me anything."

She just cries harder and hugs me tighter. "I _want _to Daddy! I really do _want _to tell you! B-but I can't tell you about this. Th-the less you kn-know the bet-t-ter."

It isn't any use arguing this further. So instead of pressing her for more information, I just hug her and pat her back in a vain effort to console her. _What could Snow have possibly said for her to be like this? _There is nothing I can do about it, which makes me even angrier. I kiss the top of her head again and wipe away a tear. "I love you sweetheart. If there's anything...anything at all that you _can _tell me, I will always listen."

She smiles through her tears and places one of her hands on my much larger hand. "I know you will. I promise, if Snow would have let me say something to you, I would have told you everything. But I can't."

"Okay." I say, letting Ever do what she thinks is best. "Why don't you try to go back to sleep? Take a nap or something." I get up to leave.

"Oh actually, can I try to take a nap in your room?"

I sit back down. "Sure, it's terribly messy but go ahead. Why?"

She shrugs. "It just...feels safer than my room."

I nod and kiss her forehead. "You go on ahead and rest. Read a book, listen to your music player. I'll check on oyu later and turn the lgiht off if you fall asleep." She smiles and hugs me and says okay. "Have _good _dreams this time, sweetheart."

She gives a labored giggle.

_Poor thing. Damn Snow. Nobody deserves to have him personally frighten them, especially not my baby._

* * *

**Random Quote of the day:**

**(During Youth Group)**

**Me: Who's the president of the United Kingdom?**

**My friend: Canada?**

**Me: *facepalms* (Yes, I am aware the UK does not have a president. It was a trick question and my friend fell for it)**


	24. Someone Who Can Commiserate

I know the Haymitch POV part seems really sappy, but the flashback in it has an interesting parallel to Ever's situation.

_Sorry if it seems like loads of the canon characters (the victors, mostly) like Ever. It's just, think aobut it- Haymitch and all (well, most) of the victors that like Ever are involved in the plot to start rebellion. Haymitch is too. So they would have had to meet Ever at some point and who doesn't like cute kids?_

_Okay, maybe Brutus and Enobaria, but they don't count._

* * *

**Someone Who Can Commiserate**

* * *

com·mis·er·ate [kuh-miz-uh-reyt] verb, -at·ed, -at·ing.

–verb (used with object)

1. to feel or express sorrow or sympathy for; empathize with; pity.

–verb (used without object)

2. to sympathize (usually followed by with )

* * *

_Ever..._

I go to my father's room to lie down. I have no intentions of falling asleep for fear of nightmares of Snow and my new 'job' but it is nice to be somewhere I feel safe. Somewhere amid the mess of my father's room is some sense of safety. Maybe it is the one idea I had since childhood that hasn't changed. Every time I was scared or needed to be around somebody I would run in there and everything would be okay- at least for a little while.

It's easy to tell which side he sleeps on- it's the only side with pillows. I slip under the covers and curl up on his side. _I wish Daddy read books. Then I'd have something to do. _I think before closing my eyes. I don't fall asleep, but I kind of like the way closing my eyes feels. There is nothing but blackness. No Snow. No Capitol. No nothing. Of course, I have to ruin it by opening my eyes a few seconds later.

_This isn't fair. What am I going to tell everybody when they ask why I have to be called away so often? I can't just lie to Daddy. To Seeder. Beetee. Raewyn. Chaff. Mags. Finnick. _"Holy fish! Finnick!" I exclaim. Finnick always gets called away while in the Capitol. He never looks to excited about it- why? One would think that anybody with a shred of decency would love to be called away from watching the Hunger Games, right? Why is Finnick never even remotely happy about it?

I suddenly have an epiphany.

Finnick must be the Capitol's toy as well. Oh my goodness. I hurry out of my father's room and into the phone upstairs hallway. There are several phones in various places around the house. There _was _one in Daddy's room, but he ripped it out of the wall sometime between being crowned victor and falling in love with my mom.

I open up the one drawer on the small table the phone sits on and pull out a phonebook. It's a tiny thing, really. It had the phone numbers of all the victors of Panem. I flip to the District 4 section and search for Odair, Finnick.

_Finally_, I think as I see a name on the third page. _Odair, Finnick. Phone number is 908-444-6500. _I punch in the numbers as quickly as I can. The phone rings six times before- "Hello?" Comes the sleepy, annoyed voice on the other end. I check the clock hanging above the phone. _It says 7:50. Three hours difference between 12 and 4 so where Finnick is it's...oh no! I woke him up!_

"F-Finnick I'm so sorry!"

He doesn't seem to recognize my voice which is probably why he says, "I don't have time for this. It's not even five in the morning yet!"

"Finnick I'm sorry. It's okay if you don't have the time right now. I forgot about the time difference between Districts 12 and-"

Finnick gasps, "Oh I'm so sorry, kid! I didn't know it was you. Go ahead, I have plenty of time."

"I can call back lat-"

"Nonono! Now is good!"

"If you say so..."

"What's going on kid? You seem down."

"I-I can't tell you." I say.

"Don't try to pull that crap with me, Ever."

I take a deep breath and tell him all that I can tell him safely. "Snow showed up at our house today. He was there before I even woke up."

Finnick must have been drinking something because I hear him choke on something. "He *cough* what! What did he want?"

"Finnick, I really can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"I told him I wouldn't do what he wanted me to do."

"That's never smart."

"He threatened to kill Daddy if I told anybody but I can't just _not _say something to someone!" Finnick is silent for awhile. "F-Finnick?"

Slowly he says, "Ever. Please tell me."

"I think the phone lines might be bugged."

"They aren't. I...know a girl. In the Capitol. Family owns the phone line company and they aren't bugged."

_Even so..._ "I still can't risk telling you."

"Then give me a hint."

"You know how I feel. You can empathize one hundred percent."

He is silent before saying, voice dripping with sarcasm, "Oh that helped."

"I'm sorry. I just can't tell you."

He sighs. "Can you tell me in the Capitol? You know, when you mentor this year?"

I sigh and reluctantly agree. "Finnick?"

"Yeah?"

"Did Snow make you a Capitol man-slut?"

He draws in a sharp breath. "Why would you want to know about things like that?"

"Let's just say Snow's visit opened my eyes to things about being a victor."

"Ever-"

"Be honest. Finnick. Please." I say, phone tucked between my cheek and shoulder so I can use my hand to fiddle with the bracelet Kenton made me.

* * *

_Finnick..._

"Be honest. Finnick. Please." Ever pleads.

_No Finnick, don't tell the girl the truth...but she's a victor too now. _Against my better judgement, I answer her truthfully. "Yes."

"Thanks for being honest...I- I'll see you in the Capitol."

"Yeah...see you." _Click. _Ever quickly hangs up. _That was weird._

I hung up my phone and go into my kitchen to make a cup of coffee. I thaw out some shrimp from dinner with Annie last night for breakfast. While the shrimp thaws I sit down at the table and think. _What could Ever have possibly meant about how I can empathize with her. And what's with the quesitons about me being a Capitol 'man-slut?' The only reason for her asking me that is- no that's impossible. But why else would she ask me that unless- no. Not even the Capitol would go that low. There's no way Snow would condone Capitol men paying to have...certain relations with a thirteen year old girl. Ever's still a child!_

_It's not totally impossible, is it? No, of course it's impossible. There has to be some other reason for Ever asking me._

_There just has to be._

* * *

_Haymitch..._

I silently walk up the stairs to check on Ever at around nine thirty. Despite her telling me she wouldn't, she has fallen asleep. For once in a long while, she looks peaceful. She is even smiling in her sleep, lying on my side, head on one pillow while she cuddles the other. Hell, why I still refer to it as 'my side' is something I will never understand.

It's not like there's anybody I share it with.

Rose has been dead for almost thirteen years. Thirteen years! _Get over it Haymitch! Stop being an angst-driven teenager and get over the woman!_

But how can I? Ever reminds me more and more of her every day. Her smile, her eyes, her singing voice- even the way she sleeps. Yes, I said the way she sleeps. Rose used to always sleep cuddling something. Usually, it was me- unless she was angry, in which case I would be replaced by a pillow. She even had a name for it. Hctimyah. Haymitch spelled backwards.

I remember the first time I was replaced my Hctimyah.

_Flashback..._

_I walk out of the bakery carrying several loaves of bread and shiver as I step into the snowy outdoors. "Haymitch!" Calls a happily familiar voice. _

_"Hey sweetheart." I say when I see then sixteen year old Rose._

_"Haymitch...I have to talk to you. It's- well it's kind of important." She says, looking down._

_"Yes of course. Is everything alright?"_

_"Yes. No. Yes. Mostly just follow me." She says, seeming as confused as I am. She pulls me to an alley near the bakery. "Haymitch, listen. You know how my aunt, uncle and the rest of the family are going through a time awful tough?"_

_I nod. Panem is going through another bout of inflation. Even the wealthier people in 12- schoolmasters like Rose's uncle- are struggling. I am perhpas the only person in the district without a worry._

_"Well you see, my uncle has asked that my younger brother, cousins and I do all we can to contribute to the money. The...the only option I have is Cra-"_

_"No! Don't you dare say Cray!"_

_"But Haymitch it's the only option I have! I probably cost my aunt and uncle a fortune, I have to do something to-"_

_"Rose, come live with me." I say._

_"What?"_

_"Just come and live with me." I repeat._

_"Oh I don't want to be any trouble."_

_"Rose. I'd rather have you around twenty-four hours a day seven days a week than selling your body to some- some _Peacekeeper _so you can get a few extra dollars and he can get a cheap thrill! You're above that and I'd especially hate to see you resort to that when you have other options."_

_Rose smiles weakly. "I'd love to, but aren't you worried about Raphael?"_

_I scoff, "I'm not afraid of your brother. If he wants to be a jerk then let him."_

_She laughs. "Oh alright then. It'll be fun getting to annoy my boyfriend all day and all night." _

_I laugh with her until I notice her shivering. "You cold?"_

_"No." She lies. I shake my head to let her know I'm not buying it and take my jacket off. She blushes as I give it to her. "Aren't you cold now?"_

_"The only good thing about living in Victor's Village...the house has heat."_

_She smiles and laughs. "Well I'm getting even colder by looking at you so let's get to the nice heated house, shall we?" I smile as she grabs my hand. We walk in silence, mostly because we are too cold to think of conversation. Once we get inside she lets herself fall to the couch. "I can't thank you enough for letting me stay with you."_

_"You don't have to thank me for anything sweetheart. I feel better with you here anyway."_

_"Oh, really?" She asks as flirtatiously as she can while half-asleep._

_"Why don't you go upstairs and sleep?" I ask before kissing her gently on the lips._

_"Only if you come too." She says with a playful grin._

_"Fine." I mumble. _

_"Yay!" Once upstairs, I let her get comfortable before I change into a clean shirt and not snowy jeans. Rose moves over and says, "My feet are cold."_

_"Then take more of the blankets." _

_She looks disappointed. _Why? _Rose puts her head on my chest and tilts her head up to kiss me. I deepen then kiss and pull her closer. She smiles as she breaks the kiss. "I love you."_

_"I love you too."_

_"I don't feel like..._sleeping_."_

_"Are you hungry or something?"_

_Again, she seems disappointed. "No, I was thinking of something else."_

_"Um..." _I'm clueless here. _She still seems upset. "I don't smell too great, I'm going to go take a shower."_

_She pretends to be hurt as she folds her arms across her chest. "So you'd rather take a shower than have sex with your girlfriend."_

_"Who said anything about sex?"_

_"I've been throwing myself at you for the past five minutes! Come on Haymitch, you usually catch on immediately!"_

_I hold my hand in front of me in the universal 'whoa Nelly' gesture. "I'm sorry, I'm just not all that awake right."_

_"That's never stopped you before!" She argues, stealing the one pillow I was using. She hugs it. _

_"I'm sorry sweetheart." I say, going to hug her. _

_"Nope!" She says. "You've been replaced."_

_"Replaced? By a pillow?"_

_"Not _just_ a pillow__. Hctimyah."_

_"Huh?"_

_"Heck-tim-yaw, Haymitch spelled backwards. He is the anti-Haymitch."_

A pillow? My goodness. _"I'm sorry sweetheart, just put Heck-tim...whoever away."_

_"Is there an incentive?" She asks with a mischievous grin._

_"Possibly."_

_End Flashback._

I don't think I've ever thought about being in love with someone after her. Except maybe Raewyn.

Wait- what! Did I just say that I love Raewyn?

_No you don't, no you don't, no you don't she is _married _Haymitch. Off. Limits. On top of that, she's pregnant with kid number...a-higher-number-than-anybody-should-count-to-when-counting-their-kids._

Haymitch you are a first class idiot.

* * *

**Random Quote of the day: [will not be funny unless you have seen the movie Silence of the Lambs]**

**(While watching Silence of the Lambs)**

**Me: OMG now I have to go home and finish reaidng the book!**

**Rachel: Why would you want to read the book?**

**Dorothy: It'll be even MORE disgusting!**

**Me: *pshycotic grin* I need to study, Clarice.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**And also, how far ahead should I skip next chapter? I'm debating between about a month before, a week before or a day or two before the Reaping. Hm, and District 12 will not have another victor until Katniss and Peeta of course, so WDYT of a certain Ivy Hopeflame being reaped? Muwahahaha!**


	25. Endeavor

Updates will start getting just a tad slower because I want to update my SYOT and my other HG fics too and my Criminal Minds fics. No fear, thoug :)

* * *

**Endeavor**

* * *

en·deav·or [en-dev-er]

–verb (used without object)

1. to exert oneself to do or effect something; make an effort; strive: We must constantly endeavor if we are to succeed.

–verb (used with object)

2. to attempt; try: He endeavors to keep things neat in hisapartment.

3. Archaic . to attempt to achieve or gain.

* * *

_2 months and a week later_

_Ever..._

The first thing I do when I wake up on August 13th is check the nearest calendar. In vain, I silently, inwardly wish that today is the 14th, that Reaping Day has just somehow skipped by us this year. Sadly, that is not the case. Today is, in fact, August 13th. Reaping Day. Today, I have to send two of my peers off to the Capitol and hope and pray one makes it back.

Not likely.

But one can dream.

Right?

I quickly slip out of my pajamas and find an acceptable outfit- a pair of black skinny jeans and a plain grey V-neck shirt. Of course, I wear the bracelet Kenton gave me and the token I took into the Arena a year ago. _A few days shy of a year ago I stepped into the arena to fight for the death. The odds were stacked against me, yet,if by no other way than sheer will, I survived. I just hope I can do the same for some child in my home district._

Again, highly unlikely, but who said dreams hurt anybody?

I walk across the hall to my father's room. He hears me walking around upstairs and I hear a voice from downstairs, "Already ready, waiting for you."

"'Kay." I say. I don't slide down the banister this morning because that's a fun and happy thing to do.

Today is not a happy occasion.

Daddy sees my sad facial expression. "Cheer up a little sweetheart. Odds are you won't know the kids that get reaped today and with oyu winning last year they'll have it in their heads that they can win."

"How will that help?" I ask.

"If they have it in their heads that they can win, they have a better chance at winning. If their mentality is a loosing mentality they have a higher chance of dying because they have already given up."

"That has to be the smartest thing you've ever said." I say.

"Yeah, yeah." He says as we reach the town square. He points at the new escort. "She looks ridiculous."

I giggle. _Effie Trinket. Word has it Tanith got promoted to District 9. Poor District 9. Then again, Tanith at least looked like a human being. Effie just looks...whoa._

"Hello District 12!" Effie says cheerily as Peacekeepers force my father and I to join her. The crowd responds with a half-hearted ''Morning.' Effie takes their apathy for stifled excitement. Effie gives the same spiel Tanith would give, then Mayor Undersee recites the Treaty of Treason. My father and I seem to be taking turns nodding off during the reading of the treaty and me have to keep elbowing and hissing, 'Stay awake!' at each other.

Our constant elbowing stops after Effie Trinket says, "Ladies first!" She reaches into the large glass ball with all the names of the girls ages 12-18 in District 12. Save me of course. She stares at the paper before loudly announcing. "Ivy Hopeflame!"

A loud, shrill cry comes from the crowd. But it isn't Ivy's scream. Ivy is calmly approaching the stage. It is Mrs. Hopeflame's scream because this is the third child of hers being sent to the Capitol ,to the arena, to die. I try to make eye contact with my old friend but she is avoiding meeting my eyes. Not that I expected anything different. Also something that doesn't surprise me is the fact that nobody volunteers for Ivy. Effie excitedly moves on.

"Now for our boy tribute!"

"Anon Anthony!" My face pales. I know Anon Anthony. He prefers to go by 'Ant' because he kind of reminds us of one. He is Kenton's neighbor in the Seam and is sixteen years old but an older sixteen than Kenton. Ant I were never that close, but we liked each other and always exchanged smiles and conversation when we meet in town. But now I have to mentor him. Maybe I con convince Daddy to take the boy if I get the girl. No, no that simply won't work. Ivy is the girl and she won't listen to me.

Looks like district 12 won't have a victor this year.

I jump as a hand claps my shoulder then squeezes it. "We'll figure it out sweetheart." I nod and turn my attention back to Effie and the reaping. Peacekeepers lead Ivy and Ant into the Justice building. More Peacekeepers lead Daddy, Effie and I to the car to take us to the train station. I turn around as I hear a disturbance amongst the Peacekeepers.

"Ever! Ever!" Shouts a painfully familiar voice.

"Joshua." I say harshly as Josh Hopeflame hurries to me. He grabs my arm.

"Ever, Ever please. Bring Ivy home."

I purse my lips. I want to scream at him, 'why should I?' but I don't. Instead I tell him the only thing I _can _tell him. "I'll try Joshua, but I also have to worry about Ant."

"Screw Ant! My older brother and sister are already dead, Ever! I can't loose Ivy to the Games, too."

I scoff, "You speak of her as a lover. Not a sister." With that, I slam the car door. Josh bangs angrily on the window until I roll it down. "What!"

He takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry for being such and ass to you after you won. It wasn't my choice, my mother made me sever ties."

"I accept your apology but that doesn't make anything okay again and doesn't' mean I will be able to bring Ivy home. But I will try to help her as well as Ant. Josh, you know as well as i do that Ivy truly hates me and I cannot help her unless she is willing to let me."

He sighs, "I know. Good luck with mentoring, Ever. Good luck with both of them."

"Thanks Josh." I say before pressing and holding the smooth black button that controls the window. I lean agiasnt the seat and bury my head in my hands. Effie Trinket rolls her eyes and says something about how she can tell I am attracted to Joshua (ugh) and how I need to admit it. My father pats me on the back and murmurs petty things about how it's going to be okay and I have nothing to worry about.

I don't think he believes any of it any more than I do.

* * *

**Random Quote of the day:**

**(While discussing Post-Impressionist art at school)**

**Kirsten: Why did Van Gogh cut off his ear and send it to his girlfriend?**

**Me: He _really _wanted to dump her and knew that's what she would do to him so he did it in advance.**

**Paden: No, she just didn't want to hear her nagging.**


	26. Bolster

I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES and I also do not own A Place In This World. They belong to Suzanne Collins and Taylor Swift respectively.

* * *

**Bolster**

* * *

bol·ster [bohl-ster]

–verb (used with object)

10. to add to, support, or uphold (sometimes followed by up ):They bolstered their morale by singing. He bolstered up his claim with new evidence.

* * *

_Ever..._

Effie, Daddy and I board the train and wait for the tributes. In this case, Ivy and Ant. I open up the suitcase of clothes I'd packed and pull out my favorite hoodie which is just a plain back color and made of cotton but it's comfortable. I slump lazily in a seat and Effie scolds me. To turn off her nagging, I put my earphones in my ears and turn up the music player full blast. Yet, somehow, Effie's annoying voice drowns out the wonderful sounds of My Chemical Romance so I get up and find a room on the train to claim as mine. I figure that since in less than twenty-four hours I will have Capitol cameras in my face, I should at least try to look decent.

Not only for the Capitol, but I want to present myself well to my tributes. _My tributes..._

I manage to fit in the tiny train bathroom and find my hair straightener. I begin to think to myself the lyrics of a song I wrote out of boredom one day.

_I don't know what I want, so don't ask me_  
_Cause I'm still trying to figure it out_  
_Don't know what's down this road, I'm just walking_  
_Trying to see through the rain coming down_  
_Even though I'm not the only one_  
_Who feels the way I do_

_I'm alone, on my own, and that's all I know_  
_I'll be strong, I'll be wrong, oh but life goes on_  
_I'm just a girl, trying to find a place in_  
_This world_

_Got the radio on, my old blue jeans_  
_And I'm wearing my heart on my sl-_

"You know you're a really good singer, Ever?" Says a timid voice behind me. I mentally scowl but outwardly, I smile.

"Thank you Ivy. That was kind of random though, don' cha think?"

"No...you were singing."

I blush but don't let her see. "Oh well did anybody else hear?"

"I don't think so."

"Good. What are you even doing here?"

Ivy looks hurt but I really don't care. "I'm a tribute."

"Oh really?" I ask sarcastically. "I meant what are you doing _here _talking to me?"

"I came to apologize."

"I don't want to hear it." I say, squeezing past her.

"But Josh said you accepted his-"

"Josh is different, Ivy. He hasn't taken every opportunity to be a complete jerk to me. Now your a tribute Ivy. That's sad and I hate that it has to be you but I'm not going to act like nothing happened. That is why I've decided to take Ant under my wing and put you under my father's." Ivy's face indicates protest, but she hold it in...for now. I leave to join everybody else with Ivy not far behind me.

I sit down next to my father for dinner and examine the tributes more carefully.

Ant is tall- really tall- but with muscle. He isn't from Town or the Seam, but a neighborhood that I suppose one would call middle-class, the Ridge. People living in the Ridge were almost as starving as those form the Seam but were usually slightly healthier. Ant has long, messy shoulder-length brown hair that he keeps in a ponytail and has Seam grey eyes. I remember him saying his mother grew up in the Seam. He has the best chance of winning, considering the other tribute is;

Ivy. Thirteen year old starving kid from the Seam. Short, too skinny. Ivy's flowing black hair is a death trap- surely Cinna will have it cut.

I admit, I know I might be being a tad too critical. After all, I was a too skinny _twelve_ year old girl when I won last year, but I knew how to use a bow and arrow from unnecessarily sneaking out to hunt with Kenton and Damien. Ivy never could learn the bow and arrow and I doubt she can wield a knife.

Wow I sound cruel.

I tell myself that my hostility toward her is revenge for her hurting my feelings, but I know it's a lie. I know it's because I really do care about her still and would rather not have to mentor her before she dies. That is why I chose Ant.

_Snap! _"I'm paying attention!" I exclaim.

"Clearly not!" Effie shouts.

"Don't yell at her!" Daddy shouts back at her.

"I can yell at her if I want! It's you two's job to give the new tributes advice instead of sitting and moping!"

Daddy opens his mouth to argue before I interfere, "Daddy save your breath. It's not worth it." Effie looks offended. _Good. _I clear my throat and, very professionally I might add, look at Ant and Ivy and ask "Advice you want? What do you want me to tell you?"

* * *

_Haymitch..._

Ever is handling this well. _Or is she? _I can tell she is still angry with Ivy and she has a right to be. But not even Ivy deserves to be handed off to her death without even a little help. Then I realize Ever has already assigned the tributes to a mentor. Ant to Ever and Ivy to me.

"Advice you want? What do you want me to tell you?" She asks the tributes. _Stay alive. _I think.

"How did you get so many allies?" Ant asks.

Ever swallows. _Dammit Ant! You had to bring them up. _"I was just...myself. I didn't make any enemies before I stepped into the arena and I wasn't afraid to talk to people. I actually met Zayna and Asia while sneaking into the kitchen for after hours munchies."

Ant nods slowly and Ivy giggles. Ivy looks at me, realizing the same thing I did about Ever's tribute assignments and says, "Haymitch?"

"What is it?"

"Do the Gamemakers give the mentors hints about the arena?"

I shake my head and drink a sip of coffee. The sobriety promise I made to Ever almost five months ago still stands but I doubt it will for long. The memories of the Capitol are just too much.

* * *

_Ever..._

After dinner, we watch the footage from the reapings. I don't pay much attention because they will be played again tomorrow in the Capitol during the victor's meeting. Not to mention paying attention would be a total waste of time. Daddy and I are counting on Raewyn to have pages upon pages of notes about the tributes filled out before the interviews even start- which is just what we need.

It's kind of funny, the way the mentors from 12, 11, 9, 3 and Finnick are in this crack alliance. It's absolutely perfect.

It possesses the perfect touch of rebellion.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

The tribute train rolls into the Capitol station early the next morning. I yawn and think to myself, _Maybe we're early enough to catch up on sleep._

Not a chance.

I'm not saying that because of mentor business- not officially at least. I'm saying that because pulled into another let off part of the train station is a train with a big '9' painted on it. Raewyn's here! Haha, yes!

Wait did I just say that? I mean, cool Raewyn's here. I should talk to her, she should be about five or six months pregnant now. Effie goes to wake the tributes because it's a 'big, big, big day!' while Ever and I finish our morning cup of tea or coffee. The train station is literally right in front of the training center so the walk is hardly a walk at all.

"Can I go upstairs and take a nap?" Ever asks.

"You're not five, you can takes naps without asking, sweetheart."

Ever laughs. "Aren't you tired, too?"

"Yes, but I'm going to go, er, talk to a friend." I say quickly.

"But the only other districts besides us that have arrived so far are ten and ni- oh." Ever smiles mischeviously.

"No. No. No." I say.

"Yeah, okay." She giggles before opening the elevator.

I turn to go get something to eat before I bump into somebody.

"Oh I'm sor- Haymitch!" The person- three guesses who- throws thier arms around me and hugs me. I hug them back.

"Raewyn, how are you?" _She doesn't _look _five or six months along. She's barely even showing._

She giggles like a teenager. "Notice anything different?" She asks, holding up her hand. It's just a hand, no rings or any- wait, no ring?

"No ring?"

She nods excitedly. "William and I got a divorce." _You mean she's back on the market? Hell yeah! I-I mean, oh that sucks. _

"I'm sorry." I lie.

"Don't be," She says. "I wanted it."

"If you don't mind me asking, why?"

"Irreconcilable differences."

"Oh."

"Plus, I have feelings for somebody else and I figure that if I have feelings for someone who isn't my husband, I have no business being married."

"Who?" I ask, trying not to sound hopeful.

She shrugs. "It's not use. He's already blatantly said he doesn't feel the same way."

* * *

WHOO! Some Haymitch/Ever moment coming up and more Haymitch/Raewyn implications and who knows, maybe he'll get drunk enough to confess XD XD

.

.

.

.

**Random Quote of the day:**

**(Argument with my 8 yr old dyslexic , autistic, tourettes syndrome and ADHD brother)**

**Connor: Will playing with a straw give you germs?**

**Me: Nope.**

**Connor: Will playing with a straw give you germs?**

**Me: No.**

**Connor: Will playing with a straw give you germs?**

**Me: Nah.**

**Connor: Will playing with a straw give you-**

**Me: NO FOR THE LAST TIME NOW GO PLAY WITH YOUR STRAW!**

**Connor: *Laughs hysterically becuase he knew it annoyed me* I pranked you!**

**Me: That's not a pra- oh forget it. *Goes back to typing Fanfiction***


	27. Desideratum

Sorry this is short. I'm not supposed to be on FF right now- mom thinks I'm addicted so she's banned me 'till tomorrow and I really wanted to move past the arriving part and update today, so...yeah.

* * *

**Desideratum**

* * *

desideratum \ dih-sid-uh-RAY-tum; -RAH- \ , noun;

_plural_ _desiderata_

1. Something desired or considered necessary.

* * *

_Ever..._

By nine-thirty, all twelve districts have arrived in the Capitol. I decide to join Daddy, Effie and the tributes for a late breakfast despite the fact that I can hardly keep my eyes open.

To make things worse, when I sit down at the District 12 table the only people there are Effie, Ant and Ivy. "Effie, where'd my father go?"

"Great to see you're alive. I think he was talking to that mentor from 9 last I saw."

"Oh." I say. I sit down next to Ivy reluctantly. Effie slides a piece of paper to me and I look up at her as if to ask what it is.

"Schedule." She explains.

I scoff, "I don't need a schedule." She shakes her head calmly and explains that there are certain things a victor must do at specific times. "Oh. What first?" She tells me to look at the schedule, which I do. _10:00, tribute meet stylists, victors attend victor's meet-and-greet. _I look up at Effie and genuinely smile and thank her for letting me know.

Effie clears her throat, "I think you should tell our tributes what to expect today."

"Right." I say slowly. I take a sip of the not-so-sweet Capitol sweet tea before saying, "You're not going to like what your prep teams do, but just go with it. If you guys have Cinna and Portia this year then you'll be in heaven after the prep teams. That's really all- oh! And don't fall off the chariots." I add hurriedly. Ant and Ivy need sponsors and won't get them by falling off the chariot. My joke earns labored laughs from the tributes and eye rolling from Effie. "You didn't have to laugh if it wasn't funny." I say with a childish giggle, standing up.

"Where do you think you're going?" Effie asks.

"Around." I say coolly before walking off to explore the Capitol.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

"I hate you." Raewyn says.

"Huh? Why?"

"Because you can drink." She says, nodding her head to the glass of Capitol wine in my hand. _I promised Ever I'd stay sober. One glass is still sober. So is two...or three. Four is pushing it._

I smile, "You still can too, but I wouldn't recommend it."

"Asshole."

"I take that as a compliment you now." She just smiles and drinks some of her water. "Not to be nosy or anything but how are you holding up? After the divorce I mean."

She laughs, "I feel better than I did married. William was too controlling- now I'm free to speak to other men without getting lectured. Honestly? I always felt more like his daughter than his wife."

"Are the kids still safe from the reaping?"

She looks down sadly and puts a hand on her stomach. "The older seven still are. The rule only applies to children born while we were still married. This one won't be."

"I'm sorry, really I am."

She shakes her head. "Nah, it's fine. What are the odds?"

"That's the same thing I thought, until last year. Be hoenst, what are the _real _reasons behind the divorce."

"I told you the truth. Irreconcilable differences and I have feelings for somebody...not him."

I nod and check the clock on the wall. "It's ten, we should probably join the other victors."

"Oh joy." She says sarcastically. We get up and walk to the victor's meeting.

* * *

_Ever..._

I shiver as a cold wind blows. Summers in the Capitol are considerably cooler than summers in District 12. I thought I could enjoy this Capitol trip, seeing as I have all the freedoms and privileges given to the victors, but so far, all I want to do is go home. I finally arrive back at the training center at 9:50, ten minutes before the victor's meeting.

"Are you Elizabeth Abernathy?" Asks a young girl, not older than fourteen or fifteen. She must be a Capitol slave. Born into it, I assume, as she isn't an Avox.

"Y-yes." I say timidly, worried about what the Capitol could need me for.

"President Snow has asked me to give you this."

"H-he what?"

"Take it." She says. I nod and take the item- a folded piece of paper. When the girl leaves, I open and read it:

_Your first client will be ready after the chariot rides. He has agreed to sponsor your tributes handsomely in exchange for being the first to have his turn with you. You also have no say in the matter. He is one of the Capitol's wealthiest men and he is very excited to 'show you the ropes.' I will send an attendant to fetch you._

_Be ready._

_President Snow._

I let my tear fall and I rip the note to shreds and discard it into the nearest trash bin.

And I run.

I run as far from the training center as my legs will carry me.

I run and I don't stop.

I can't stop.

* * *

**Random Quote of the day:**

**Dorothy: Pass the ketchup, please.**

**Me: Your mom is ketchup!**

**Dorothy's mom: A-hem**

**Me: I love you Ms. Joene!**


	28. Servile

I'm almost cried writing this. This is where Ever as to start being a Capitol *erase*courtesan*erase* prostitute :(

I didn't write the scene in depth because I am not comfortable writing those scenes but I wrote it to a certain extent to show how uncomfortable and terrible she felt. In a way, I just pictured myself in her position since I am also 13.

* * *

**Servile**

* * *

ser·vile [sur-vil, -vahyl]

–adjective

1. slavishly submissive or obsequious; fawning: _servile flatterers._

2. characteristic of, proper to, or customary for slaves; abject:_servile obedience._

3. yielding slavishly; truckling (usually followed by to ). _Servile to the Capitol's demands._

4. extremely imitative, especially in the arts; lacking inoriginality.

5. being in slavery; oppressed.

6. of, pertaining to, or involving slaves or servants.

7. of or pertaining to a condition of servitude or property ownership in which a person is held as a slave or as partially enslaved: medieval rebellions against servile laws.

* * *

_Ever..._

_If I can just run one step further..._ I bargain with myself. But the bargaining is in vain. I give up running and just sink to my knees, wherever I am in the Capitol. I bury my hands in the dirt and just cry. I cry until it feels that there are no more tears left to cry.

"What are you doing on the ground, kid?"

I wipe my eyes once more to make sure there are no tears and I stand up. "Finnick? What're you doing here?"

"I'm mentoring..." He says slowly. "What are _you _doing here?"

"I'm mentoring too, stupid." I laugh half-heartedly.

"No, I mane what are you doing _here _in _this _part of the Capitol. You should be at the training center."

"Why?"

Finnick stares at me blankly. "The victor meet-and-greet thing."

I promptly facepalm. "Shouldn't' you be there, too?"

He shrugs, "I know everybody already."

"I know all the people I want to know." I say, starting to walk off in the opposite direction of the training center.

Finnick clear his throat. "A-hem. This way." I roll my eyes at him and he just laughs. "So why did you leave the Training Center in such a hurry?"

My face goes pale. _People noticed? _"Er, everyone saw?"

He shakes his head, "Not everyone. Just me and the other 4 mentor. Truly thinks you're weird because all we saw was some Capitol servant girl hand you a piece of paper and you rip it up and run. What did it say?"

_I want to tell Finnick but I can't. Snow will kill my father and I can't let that happen. _"No reason."

Finnick grabs me and turn me so I am staring into his sea green eyes. "Don't _lie _to me Ever."

"Finnick I can't-"

"I'm not buying that either. What is the Capitol doing to you that's so horrible?"

"Wh-what do you mean?"

He shakes his head at me like I am his naive little sister. "The Capitol always does something to every victor. What's happening with you?"

I begin to tear up again. "Tell me what happened to you," I demand though I already know.

"It's too disgusting for someone as innocent as you to know about."

"Exactly! That's why I can't tell you!" Infuriated, I punch the thing closet to me, which just happens to be a brick wall. I hear a swift series of sickening cracking and crunching noises. My pain tolerance is beyond non-existent so I bite down on my lip so hard it starts to bleed so I am distracted from the pain in my fingers. But the lip biting doesn't work for long. As soon as I taste the blood in my mouth I spit it out and the pain in my fingers is brought back to my attention. I swear loudly and repeatedly until Finnick crouches down on the ground next to me.

"What the hell did you punch a brick wall for!" He yells, not angrily but emotionally.

"Hell if I know!" I scream back. "Oh, it hurts! That was so stupid!"

"Are you okay?"

"I punched a brick wall and broke a few bones, of course I'm okay, why would you think otherwise!"

Finnick holds in a laugh as he helps me up. "Let's get you back to the training center. They'll patch that hand up for ya." I don't want to go, even _with _my broken fingers I put up a fight. Finnick has to pick me up and fling me over his shoulder to get me to come to the Training Center.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

_10:00 _No Ever.

_10:15 _Chaff is here

_10: 40 _Seeder is here, still no Ever

_11:00 _No Ever...

_11:10 _Where the hell is she?

_11:15 _Did someone kidnap her or something?

_11:17 _Hey, Ever's here! Finnick's with her and she has her hand bandaged up and put in a brace. _Whoa, hold it! _"Ever what happened to your hand? Finnick!"

"I didn't touch her, I swear!"

"I punched a brick wall." Ever explains.

"I thought that when I taught you to punch I specifically said not to punch brick walls. Or any walls for that matter." Ever just shrugs.

"She wouldn't tell me why she punched a wall." Finnick says. I nod and thank him for getting her arm fixed up.

_I really do hate these victor meet-and-greets. Nobody talks to anybody here, we just sit around and, okay, maybe talk to some old friends._

"Haymitch, can you watch Starlyn and Zahra-Rose for a few minutes while I scavenge for peanut butter?" Raewyn asks. "Oh hi, Ever."

"Hey." Ever says softly.

"Yeah sure...peanut butter?"

"I crave peanut butter when I'm pregnant, give me a break!" She giggles, gently pushing eight year old Starlyn in my direction and handing four year old Zahra to me. She had to bring her youngest two to the Capitol this year because she couldn't get anybody to watch the younger ones and her ex-husband doesn't want the kids. Starlyn is very shy but Zahra is quick to warm up to everybody. "You two behave for Haymitch." She commands sternly.

"Yes Mommy." The girls say in unison. _I remember when my daughter was this little. Gosh I miss those days. I wish I could have had more kids. I'm sure Ever still would have been an only child even if her mother had survived. We never really meant to have Ever in the first place, she was a surprise. Not hat I'm complaining, I can't imagine my life without her. I could never have risked bringing another child into this world, just knowing that they could be reaped and sent off to the Capitol to die. The reapings would probably be rigged because of what I did with the forcefield during my Games. Luckily, Snow doesn't seem to be making her suffer for the stunt I pulled with the forcefield almost twenty-three years ago. In fact, he seems to be leaving her alone for the most part. Except that time he came to the house...what did he want with her anyway? It was probably just to scare her, nothing to worry about. But if Ever wasn't the only one...well, there'd be a separate Hell for each of them._

Oh, but these little kids are so cute! _I actually can't wait for next year's Games. Raewyn will have had the baby by then and will have to bring it. Him. Her. Whatever. I miss having a baby around. _I mentally kick myself. _Stop with your baby cravings Haymitch! Those are for women!_

The chariot rides finally start and for once I pay attention and let them distract me from my thoughts.

Ivy and Ant look as stunning and Ever and Robbie did last year. Cinna really does work wonders.

The chariot rides end and almost immediately a Capitol servant girl comes in the room. She is probably here to fetch Finnick for his, erm, "services." To my surprise, I see another Capitol servant girl escorting Finnick away and the girl that just arrived ignores him and makes a beeline for Ever. I hear the last three words she whispers to her, "...ready for you."

Ever's face drains of color ands he nods.

_What the- what are they doing to my baby?_

* * *

_Ever..._

Finnick and I are pulled away almost at the same time by two different Capitol maid servants. Finnick is led out the door before I am. The maid servant pities me, I can tell. She turns to me and gives me a meaningless hug. "It isn't that bad, being a Capitol courtesan. It pays good money."

_Yeah. Good money that I don't _need _or _want _for that matter. _I just nod slowly and hope that maybe my broken fingers will discourage the man from having his 'turn' with me.

Me. A thirteen year old child.

It still disgust me that a man would pay to have sex with a young girl, but I try to push those thoughts away. I am doing this because I am forced to. I will not tell anybody because I want to protect my father. I will do this without protest because my tributes get sponsored. All I have to do is...is give away my innocence. Suddenly, this seems a thousand times worse than it already was.

A car with tinted windows pulls up in front of the Training Center. _This must be the rich man's car. _The maid servant shoves me in the car. I man is sitting across form me in the limousine. "You must me my little treat tonight." I admit, the man isn't bad-looking. _Better him than a man older than my father. _

I swallow and say, "I s-suppose so."

"No need to be afraid, Ever." He says in what I assume is supposed to be a seductive voice. He places his hand on my upper leg and squeezes gently. This really makes me uncomfortable but I pretend not to notice. The man makes it impossible to ignore him when he begins to touch my face. I let him, not sure what else I can do. "We will wait until we get to the hotel. It is used specifically for services such as yours."

He doesn't put any kind of emphasis or sarcasm on 'services.' Disgusting. Forcing a child to sleep with him is just another service to him.

I nod, "Okay. Before we go any further, what is your name?"

He chuckles. "Adiran Knox. Uh-DEER-in."

"Okay. Cool." I hide my face from Adiran the rest of the car ride, not wanting him to see my face. I am ashamed of myself already and I havne't even done anything with him.

The limousine pulls up in front of a hotel. It just looks like a place you'd go to sleep with somebody. I almost turn right around and run.

Almost, I said almost.

I stay because I want to protect everyone I care about from Snow's wrath. _I'm sorry..._ I apologize to whoever will be disappointed with what I am about to do in this hotel. I allow Adiran to lead me to a room. "Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be." I mumble. Which isn't a lie. I'm not ready for this and I never will be.

Adiran approaches me and violently pushes me against the bed. "The President made sure you understood the conditions?"

"I don't protest. you have your way and I have no say. If I'm a good little girl you will sponsor my tributes handsomely."

"Excellent memory." He says, before lustfully kissing my lips. I push him off of me and he looks angry.

"Adiran let's...let's just get on with it, okay?"

A smile full of desire creeps upon his face. "I like the way you think." He takes his shirt off and I force myself not to cry.

XXSKIPPING THE ICKY SEX STUFFXX

It all happens so fast. I don't even do anything and I don't think it bothered him. It was something between consensual sex and rape. I lie on the best, staring up at the ceiling after the whole ordeal.

I've never once thought about my 'first time' before but I know I did not want it to be like this. I would rather it have been someone I loved but instead it was Adiran Knox.

I have head all of these people talk about how wonderful sex is and how great they feel afterwards. I know I should be feeling the same way, but in all honesty I don't.

I feel dirty.

Disgusting.

Worthless.

Violated.

Self-loathing.

"I hate myself." I whisper to the ceiling. I slowly get up off the bed and find my clothes. I don't even bother to put my underwear on. I just leave it because I am in rush to leave this hellhole. My body still aches- I just hope nobody can guess what just happened. I shiver as the cold air from the hallway hits my body. I leave the room unlocked and hurry to the elevator. I press the buttons I need to press and once I am on the bottom floor, I exit the elevator.

It's sort of funny. I am like a zombie. Eyes wide open, unblinking, walking funny. I almost don't hear the earsplitting scream.

The scream is just that- an agonizing, blood-curdling and wordless scream. It is followed by and equally ear-splitting "NO WHY HER!"

I am frozen. I can't even zombie walk out of the hotel. The ear splitting screams belong to a man in his early twenties who is on his knees in the lobby of the hotel.

Finnick Odair.

* * *

**0_O WWFD! What Will Finnick Do!**

**[Religious people please don't be offended by that, I am religious too and I didn't mean to make fun of anybody.]**

**Random Quote of the day:**

**History test question: Where was Napolean's greatest military victory?**

**Paden's answer: Waterloo**

**Me: Do I need to break out the song!**

**Me+Kirsten: *Start singing Waterloo by ABBA***


	29. Divulgence

**Divulgence**

* * *

di·vulge [dih-vuhlj, dahy-]

–verb (used with object), -vulged, -vulg·ing.

to disclose or reveal (something private, secret, or previously unknown); confess.

* * *

_Ever..._

Seeing Finnick brought to his knees right there in the lobby has officially thrown me further than I've already been thrown. He continues to scream.

"Finnick-" I begin before he cuts me off.

He jumps to his feet and charges at me. He grabs my good hand and squeezes it as hard he possibly can- almost to the point of breaking bones in _that _hand, too. "What the hell are you doing here?" He demands in a voice filled with such anger that it's scary. I know he can see me wincing from his iron grip on my hand, but he doesn't soften his hold. "Are you deaf? What. The. Hell. Are. You. Doing. Here?"

"Finnick I- I you weren't supposed to find out-"

The anger in his eyes fades only to replaced by hurt and confusion. "Ever I don't underst- are you trying to tell me-?"

I begin to cry. "Yes Finnick. Snow has sold me into prostitution...like you."

Finnick finally loosens his grip on my hand. "No crying her, kid. Let's get back to the training center. WE have to tell Haymitch and put a stop to this before you get hurt!"

I yank my hand away form him. "No! We can't tell Daddy!"

"Why not? He should know-"

"Finnick. Snow said that if anybody finds out he will kill my father and who knows who else! It's too late for me not to get hurt anyway." I say the last sentence like I am ashamed of it. Which I am.

Finnick looks as if he wants to freak out again but doesn't. "Y-you mean you're not a-? you lost-? tonight you-? with a man and-?" He can't seem to finish any of his questions.

"Sort of. I want to say he raped me but I didn't put up a fight...how disgusting am I Finnick?"

"Come with me." He says sharply. He grabs my hand again.

"It still hurts to walk." I say. Without hesitation, he picks me up and carries me back to the Training Center. We don't speak the whole way there. The walk has to be between thirty minutes and a hour long. As if the silence isn't awkward enough, I am embarrassed that Finnick has been carrying me. I am half expecting him to put me down and make me walk inside the training center but instead, he carefully pokes his head in before literally running to the elevator with me still in his arms. The elevator opens and Finnick presses a button- just one button. The '4' button. I tell him that I am on floor 12, but he just stares ahead.

He brings me to a room- I'm guessing it is his. Without putting me down he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key card. Once inside the room he gently puts me on the bed so I am sitting up. He gets on the floor beside the bed and gently places his hands over both of mine and his sea green eyes are staring into my chocolate brown ones. "Listen to me; you're not disgusting."

"You had to wait and hour just to tell me that?"

He shakes his head. "No, I brought you here because I want you to tell me everything."

"Where do you want me to start?"

"Start with the day of the phone call and finish with today. Tell me the whole story with Snow?" I take a deep breath and tell him everything. The conversation with Snow, the note the maid servant delivered me, even Adiran's name. As soon as I divulge the name to him I hear him inhale sharply. "I know him- he's an ass." For some reason, I giggle. Finnick half-smiles for about half a second, then we are both frowning again. I scoot over and motion for him to sit next to me.

"When did it start for you?" I ask.

He doesn't need to ask me what I mean by 'it.' He simply answers, "I was fifteen. They waited until about a year after I won."

"Me too. The year after I mean- I'm obviously not fifteen yet."

Finnick awkwardly reaches over and pulls me into a hug. "I'm so sorry, kid."

"It's not you fault."

"Is too! I should have caught the hints during the phone call, I should have-"

I don't know hoe else to shut him up so I kiss- EW! Just kidding!- I place my hand over his mouth and what does he do? He licks me. "Yuck!" I scream.

"In all seriousness, it's partially my fault. I should-"

"Finnick, don't even!" I say harshly. Then more softly I add, "It's not your fault. Just the Capitol's."

"You're too good to live the life I live." He says sadly.

"Please just don't blame yourself. I don't want my surrogate brother to feel guilty about something that isn't his fault." And I smile. I actually, genuinely, truly _smile_

Finnick returns my smile with an equally earnest smile of his own. "I just don't like seeing my surrogate sister in so much pain." I playfully punch his shoulder and he punches mine. "Why don't you get some rest? You should sleep."

I nod and start to stand up before Finnick stops me.

"You can just stay here and sleep for tonight."

"But my tributes-"

"They'll be fine with Haymitch until tomorrow morningAndOhMyGosh I cannot believe that I just said that."

I laugh and lie down on the bed in his room. "This is much more comfortable than the beds on the District 12 floor. But where are you going to sleep?"

He shrugs "I don't suppose you'd mind sharing, would you?"

"As long as you don't shove your gross feet in my face like my father does when we share."

"You still share a bed with Haymitch?"

"Only if there are no other options."

"Oh okay. That almost sounded creepy." I kick him. "Hey!"

"Shut up I'm trying to sleep." I mumble.

He chuckles, "'Night kid."

"G'night _pretty boy_."

* * *

_Haymitch..._

_Where is Ever? She's been gone for hours! _I think as I nervously tap my foot. It's been quite a while since I've seen her. Effie says not to worry because it is just Capitol business- which _of course _makes me worry even more. I sent Ant and Ivy up to the twelfth floor to go to bed at around seven o' clock. Early, I know, but they need their rest. Tomorrow will be an early day and even if they don't fall asleep until three in the morning any amount of down time will help them. AT that same time, I also made Starlyn and Zahra-Rose go to bed on the ninth floor. That's what thier mother said was their bedtime.

After I was kid-free I started drinking. Which is why I am drunk now- not wasted, but plenty buzzed.

"Hey! Thanks for watching the girls!" Raewyn says cheerily, appearing out of nowhere.

"Just getting peanut butter? Does peanut butter hunting really take that long?"

"Yes, yes it does. Were they good for you?"

"Oh yeah. It was fun being interrogated by your seven and four year olds about exactly _how _well I know their Mommy."

"Even the kids bug you about the rumors?"

"Yep." I slightly pop the 'P.' She just giggles. I look into her eyes and notice they are red from tears. "Is everything okay?"

She gets defensive, "Of course, why wouldn't it be?"

"You're eyes are red and watery."

"Allergies." She says quickly, looking away and wiping her eyes. I shake my head, silently demanding the truth. She breaks down and tells me everything. "It's not fair! Yeah, okay I wanted the divorce from William and everything but it's so hard taking care of seven- eight- children on my own! You tell anyone this and I swear I'll rape you then brutally murder you but I filed for divorce only after William left and said he didn't want anything to do with me _or _the kids anymore! He never gave a reason, he just _left_! True, I was going to divorce him soon anyway even if he didn't just leave like that but then again I wouldn't have. The person I _really _care about would never feel the same- great now I sound like a teenager which is totally not-" She doesn't say anything else.

_I'm going to regret asking this question, but... _"Who did you leave William for?"

She frantically looks around, then the unexpected happens. She grabs me and kisses me. "Does _that _answer your question, Haymitch?"

* * *

**Random Quote of the day:**

**Me(to Paden): Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. It's just that yours is stupid.**

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**Thank to everyone who reviewed last chapter!**

**Ally (twice! LOL) **

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**ILOVETARARIEGAN**

**La'Rae and Ninjas Incorporated **

**it-was-enchanting**

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**That's right, I said _y'all_. That's the southern girl in me for ya :P**


	30. Compunction

**Compunction?**

* * *

com·punc·tion [kuhm-puhngk-shuhn]

–noun

1. a feeling of uneasiness or anxiety of the conscience causedby regret for doing wrong or causing pain; contrition;remorse.

2. any uneasiness or hesitation about the rightness of anaction.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

We stare awkwardly at each other for what feels like a long time before I lean down and kiss her back. She smiles and deepens the kiss. _Let's hope I can remember this tomorrow. I don't think I drank too much today- at least I hope not._

"For a celibate drunk your pretty good at this kissing stuff." She says like a teenager. She leans in to kiss me again but is interrupted by footsteps walking toward us.

"Ohmygosh I knew it! Seeder owes me fifty bucks."

Raewyn and I turn to see Chaff standing there. We both blush before I ask, "You two made a bet?"

"Sure did." He says before turning and walking back into the elevator.

"That was awkward." I say.

"Yeah..." Raewyn says slowly. "Um, I should probably go check on Starlyn and Zahra. I'll...I'll see you tomorrow."

* * *

_Ever..._

Finnick falls asleep quickly, but I lie awake for hours.

I don't know if it is because I can't sleep or because I don't to. I almost wonder if I am afraid to close my eyes tonight for fear of seeing Adiran and President Snow. I know that these fears are completely pointless and there is no reason for me to be afraid of sleeping- especially when Finnick is here.

But still.

Talking to Finnick helped me a lot and I feel a lot better because of him but even _he _couldn't help the situation enough. The fact is I will be forced into Capitol prostitution for the rest of the foreseeable future until I finally become unattractive.

_But when will that happen?_

Not for another twenty years, at least. I suppose I can kiss all of my hopes and dreams goodbye. I'll never marry- who would understand? I'll never have children.

_This sucks._

This really, really sucks.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

I take a sip from the bottle sitting on the table in my room in the Training Center.

_She shouldn't have kissed me._

Another sip.

_I shouldn't have kissed her back._

I push the bottle away before I drink the whole thing, using what little self control I have left. I don't know why I feel so guilty. It's perfectly fine to kiss her- she's divorced so it's not like I'm having an affair with her. I refuse to let myself believe believe that I feel guilty about Rose. _It's been thirteen years, Haymitch. Move on. _

Yeah well that's kind of difficult with your Rose-clone daughter. _No! I won't push the blame on Ever. My daughter has nothing to do with it._

...maybe Ever _is _the reason I feel guilty. It's probably because I don't know her opinion about the whole thing. I'm not sure if she'd be happy or upset- probably the former; but still. It doesn't help that I don't plan on telling her about the kiss(es) for quite a while. Instead, I plan on keeping it a secret for a time. Speaking of keeping it a secret...I have to threaten Chaff with his life tomorrow.

I take another sip from the bottle. As if liquor suddenly makes me smarter tonight, I realize another reason for my guilt. When I won my Games almost twenty-three years ago I made the Capitol look stupid with that accursed forcefield. Within two weeks my mother, brother and girlfriend at the time were dead. I knew it was my fault.

Then ten years later Sage Fernslay was reaped. It was a well-known fact that members of the Fernslay-Fairchild family would volunteer for the younger ones if ever they were reaped. The whole district- including Peacekeepers- knew that fact too. Another thing everybody knew was that Rose was involved with me. They knew exactly _how _involved. I don't doubt that the repaing was rigged to get her to volunteer.

Twelve years later, Ever was reaped. Coincidence? I highly doubt it.

Snow probably rigged both reapings.

Cornelius Snow has directly or in-directly been involved in the murders or attempted murders of everyone that I strongly cared about. The first and only unsuccessful attempt was made against my daughter who is _very _much alive.

It seems like the more people I care about the more people I am giving for Snow to kill...

...not really, right?

Raewyn's safe, right? Not even Snow would be low enough to kill the mother of eight children, would he?

Sure, he's the foulest creature ever to live, but that doesn't mean that he can't have boundaries...am I wrong?

I grab the bottle and drink everything left in it, knowing I am wrong.

* * *

_Ever..._

I guess I finally did fall asleep after while because I wake up and see Finnick's eyes closed on the pillow beside my pillow. Wasn't he sleeping on the other end last night?

"Good morning my love." He says sleepily.

I giggle, _You've gotta love Finnick! _"Good morning honey." I joke back.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks seriously.

"Yes, actually. No nightmares."

Finnick opens his eyes and sits up. "Liar. You were having a few nightmares, that's why I'm on the same end of the bed as you are."

"Oh..."

"Ever. You were screaming about the ra-"

"Don't say that word!" I yell.

He shakes his head, "You can't skirt around the issue. You either have to let me know when you need help or tell Haymitch-"

"No! Snow will kill him if e finds out!" I begin to cry. Finnick wraps an arm around me protectively and pulls me to where I am leaning on him. He shushes me and brushes my hair with his fingers until I calm down enough for him to speak again without me becoming hysterical.

"Okay. I won't tell Haymitch or anybody else, for that matter. But you need to always come to me when you feel...when you feel like you do now. You've got to trust me on this, Ever."

I nod, "I trust you, Finnick."

"Good. Now let me put a shirt on so we can go downstairs for breakfast."

My eyes widen, "Oh no! I should have snuk out earlier! What are you going to say?"

He grins, "Oh I have a plan. You see, if I piss your father off he'll forget that he didn't see you last night." I nod, really regretting trusting hi mto take care of the explanation.

Once he puts a shirt on we head to the dining hall for breakfast. "Finnick!" "Ever!" Our escorts shout in angry unison. "Where the hell were you last night!"

Finnick flashes both women a killer smile. His escort falls for it but Effie is unphased. "You should have been at dinner!" Effie shrieks at me.

"Oops." I say, honestly a little afraid. Luckily my father comes out of nowhere and tells Effie not to yell at me.

"But she was missing all night!" Effie argues.

Daddy's eyes widen, "Oh really?" I swallow and bite my lip. I look to Finnick to explain away.

Finnick grins mischievously, "She was with me all night. In my room." That didn't seem to help, as Daddy and Effie are now freaking out even _more_. "Oh re_lax _Haymitch! We were just hanging out and she fell asleep on my bed...with me."

I suddenly realize that he is doing this on purpose.

Finnick grins agian, "Oh yeah we were having a lovely time. I'm sorry, Haymitch we just couldn't contain ourselves, right my love?"

I play along, "Right."

Daddy pushes Finnick in the direction of the table with his tributes. "Go! Teach them how to not die!"

Finnick reaches for me, "I must give her a proper farewell! See you tonight, my love!"

"My life has no meaning if I cannot gaze upon your face!" By now, all of the mentors, tributes, escorts, other victors and Avoxes are staring at us.

"Nor does mine!" He tears off his shirt then throws it at me. "Take my shirt as a token of my love!"

I catch the shirt as best I can with my broken fingers and touch it my face. I sniff it because Finnick always smells amazing. "I shall cherish this token for as long as I live!"

* * *

**Random Quote of the day:**

**Me: Pineapples make bad stuffed animals.**

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**OHMIGOSH I have over 200 reviews on this story! Thank you everybody, thank you thank you thank you!**

**That's right, I said _y'all_. That's the southern girl in me for ya :P**


	31. Exculpate

**Exculpate**

* * *

ex·cul·pate [ek-skuhl-peyt, ik-skuhl-peyt]

–verb (used with object), -pat·ed, -pat·ing.

to clear from a charge of guilt or fault; free from blame; vindicate.

* * *

_Ever..._

Breakfast goes by without any conversation amongst the District 12 crowd. I believe it is because they are embarrassed to know me, but I don't care.

Finnick still loves me.

After the last person- Effie- finishes eating and throws her scraps away I angrily throw my fork down on the table where it bounces off of Effie's glass of water, hits the edge of the table and falls to the floor with a metallic _clink_! "Do either of you care!" I shout at Ant and Ivy.

Even Effie and Daddy's jaws drop.

"Ever-" Ivy begins.

"Sh! You two are completely complacent- do you even care about surviving?" I clench my fists until my knuckles turn white.

"Of course we care!" Ivy shouts angrily, her chair flying at least ten feet from her and also knocking over hers and Effie's drinking glasses.

I egg her on with a smile and sarcastic clapping of my hands. "Great job, Ivy! Emotion, now try actually showing it all the time!" My voice is laced with venom. I still don't forgive Ivy. I want to but she has to earn it first.

"Ever." Daddy warns.

"Stay out of this!" I shout, a manic look creeping into my eyes. He is utterly shocked by now and I turn my attention back to both Ivy. "So today we start training. Weapons. Fun. District 12 gets it's turn to practice alone from 5:00-7:00. Right through dinner, sorry. You two have a choice- together or separate?"

"Togeth-" Ivy begins.

"Separate." Ant interrupts.

I nod slowly, "Separate it is." _Great. Maybe then- and I said _maybe _Ivy and I can talk forgiveness._

"Which one of you is helping us out in weapons today?" Ant asks.

"I am. Effie and Daddy- I mean- my father do interview prep and everything else. Not sure how I got stuck with weapons, but-" I shrug and don't finish the sentence.

"Oh okay." He says slowly.

I yawn, "I'm going to go wander around for a few minutes-"

"I'm sorry Miss Ever, but President Snow has requested your presence." Says a maid servant, the same girl who handed me that letter.

"Can't I go take a shower first?" I ask her.

"I'm afraid it must be immediate."

"Well okay then. Where is he?"

"The Presidential mansion, of course. He has a car outside to escort you." The girl explains. I nod slowly.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

"The mentor from 9 has also asked me to give you this." The Capitol servant girl says softly, passing me a small piece of paper. I nod and receive 'looks' from Cinna, Effie and Ever.

"No." I say/lie to the three of them.

"She's divorced now, you know." Ever says.

"I know." I say, trying to hide the fact that I am blushing like a girl.

"Now, Miss Ever!" Presses the servant. Ever follows the girl out of the Training Center. _What could Snow possibly want with her? Probably nothing...he is most likely just trying to intimidate her like he does with every new victor. Next year it will be another young victor being frightened. Just a few more weeks of is, sweetheart. You'll be fine._

"Aren't you going to read the note your girlfriend- I mean _girl _friend passed you?" Cinna teases.

"Don't make me kill you." I say, reading what is on the piece of paper. _Meet me on the roof after dinner, make sure nobody follows you- Rae_

I smile and stuff it in my pocket. Cinna grins, "I knew it! I knew it!" I shush him and he stops talking but giggles like a girl instead. I roll my eyes and tell him I'm going to wander around to which he replies, "Yeah okay. Wander around. Because I'm _sure _that's what you're doing."

* * *

_Ever..._

The Capitol maid servant rides to the Presidential mansion with me. As strange as it seems, this girl is a comforting face. She doesn't seem heartless and cruel. She seems almost...human.

She leads me to President Snow's office once we arrive at the mansion. "Can you stay with me?"

"I'm sorry Miss Ever, I cannot." She curtsies like I am royalty.

"Please don't do that. I am not a queen, a princess or any kind of nobility."

She blushes, "But Miss you are a victor!"

"I am not better than you...I'm sure you know that I go by Elizabeth in the Capitol, right?" She nods and assures me she understands but feels alternate names are quite pointless. "Can you tell me your name?"

She looks around as if she is telling me a secret. "Hila. I am sorry, I must go." She turns and leaves me to face Snow alone. I open the door to his office.

"Good morning, Ms. Abernathy." He says in his ridiculous Capitol accent.

"Hello, sir."

"Have a seat, this meeting will be brief."

"Yes sir."

He glares at me. "I know what happened last night at the hotel. Finnick Odair spotted you. You told him."

"Sir he won't tell anybody, he swore he wouldn't! I'll be careful just don't hurt-"

Snow laughs and I suddenly smell blood and roses. "I'm not punishing anybody. Odair can know because he, too, is a Capitol courtesan. Consider him finding out a warning. I was going to put you off-limits for the next few nights so you can deal with the loss of your...well let's just say I was feeling generous. But the generosity wore off once you were found out. I have no choice but to put you up for an option for the next four nights that you _were _going to get off."

"Yes Mr. President." I say, looking down sadly.

He touches my face and tilts it up. I shiver because his hands are so cold. "Have no fear, child. All the money will go to saving your tributes lives. Rumor has it you were once good friends with the girl. What happened? Nobody wants to speak with a killer like you?"

* * *

_(Still) Ever..._

_5:00PM_

_Weapons Room of the Training Center_

I haven't been feeling well since my meeting with Snow. I hope getting a chance to teach my tributes something will distract me for a while. I smile as I hear the door open- hoping it is Ant.

Nope.

Ivy.

_I guess it _is _time to forgive her. _I think.

"So, what do you need to teach me?" She asks.

"Weapons...but that can wait. Ivy, we need to talk."

"Funny, I was going to say the same thing." We look at each other and in unison, "You first...no, you!" "Fine." She says.

"I'm listening."

She bursts into tears, "I'm so sorry! I've been horrible to you! I haven't even stepped into the arena yet and I feel so scared, worried. I don't think I'm going to make it out of there. Knowing you somehow came out of it is just..wow. You didn't deserve to be treated unfairly by me at home, somewhere you should have been safe. I'm so, so, so sorry!"

I resist the urge to hug her. But then I fail at that and I hug her anyway. "It's okay, Ivy. Your mother made you do it. I understand."

"Freinds again?"

"Freinds."

* * *

**Random Quote of the day:**

**Friend's Youth Pastor: Nuh uh, I'm more of an idiot than you!**

**Me: I run with scissors cuz it makes me feel dangerous!**

**Youth Pastor (I went to her church on Sunday): I swim in gasoline while on fire.**

**Me: I skydive without parachutes!**

**Youth Pastor: I-you know what? Let's just agree that we're both idiots. *I've known above youth pastor most of my life***


	32. In Need of Succor

**In Need of a Succor**

* * *

suc·cor [suhk-er]

–noun

1. help; relief; aid; assistance.

2. a person or thing that gives help, relief, aid, etc.

* * *

_Ever..._

After two whole hours of working with Ivy she is still as helpless as always. I hate to say that about my best friend, but it is completely true. I am about to make Ivy try the spears again before the doors of the gymnasium swing open to reveal Effie. She looks really angry and she obviously is when she yells, "Ever Abernathy! You can't pick favorites! Work with Ant now!"

"Fine." I say, rolling my eyes.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

I am sitting alone at a table until I hear a chair shift; I look up and see Ivy sitting there with a salad and a cup of tea. Her face is red and she is all sweaty and gross. She sees me looking at her funny and explains, "Your daughter worked me like a dog. Apparently I had to learn to kill to survive and no matter what I did I wasn't good enough- but it's okay, we're friends again now."

"She's just worried." I tell her.

"I know."

"Something else is on your mind."

She sighs. "It's nothing. I need a shower, see you tomorrow." I shrug, _You didn't finish eating...you're problem, not mine. At least she and Ever aren't fighting anymore._

I check the clock and notice it is 6:40. _Isn't there someone I'm supposed to b- the roof! Ah hell! _I jump up, knock over a chair and leave it for an Avox or something to pick it up.

"Well it's about _time_!" Raewyn laughs when I finally get there.

"Sorry." I mumble.

She smiles and hugs me, "That's okay Haymitch. I just wanted to be able to sneak away from the others for a while...how do you think District 12 will do this year?"

I smile, sure about my answer, "No bloodbath this year, though I doubt we'll have a victor. You?"

"I got a couple."

"Couple of what?"

She sighs, "Engaged. She volunteered for the hell of it and he was reaped."

I feel bad for them, "That's terrible. Either of 'em'll win?"

She shakes her head. "No. They have less of a chance than District Twel- oh! Sorry."

I laugh, "Doesn't bother me, it's the truth isn't it?"

She smiles then looks serious again. "Haymitch, about last night-" _I almost forgot about the kiss...es. _"I shouldn't have kissed you like that, I'm sorry."

I raise an eyebrow, "I didn't say I didn't like it. From what I recall I kissed you back."

"You were drinking though." She says, a little disappointed.

I shake my head, "I wasn't too drunk to not control myself. I kissed you back because I wanted to."

"Yeah but-" I kiss her to shut her up. She relaxes and slowly wraps her ams around my neck.

"Ah! My eye- ohmygosh Haymitch and Raewyn!" We gaps and turn to see none other than my daughter's pedophile lover. Finnick. Raewyn's eyes widen as if we are in trouble. Finnick just laughs, "I'll leave you two here to take care of...your sexual attracti-"

"Finnick! Kissing isn't the same as sex!" She shouts, ready to rip his head off. Finnick just laughs and walks off. "I'm going to kill him." Raewyn says before hopping up onto the ledge of the roof. I hop up next to her, _It's official. I love the roof._

* * *

_Finnick..._

_Later that night_

I step out of the shower and dry my hair as best I can. I hear a knock on the door of my room. "One second!" I call, throwing on a pair of clean boxers before seeing who it is. _Haymitch? _"Lo! Wassup?"

He looks worried...I take it he's sober. "Have you seen Ever anywhere?"

"Not since this morning. How is my love anyw-"

"Finnick, I'm serious. I haven't seen her for hours. I saw that Capitol servant girl whisper something to her between the time time on the roof and 8:00 and she's been gone since."

My eyes widen. "What? Again!"

Haymitch is confused, "What?" I swear loudly. "What?" He presses.

I shake my head and assure him that it is nothing, that, "Oh I just see her with that girl a lot."

Haymitch isn't convinced. "You know more, Finnick, don't lie."

"I really don't, I'm sorry." I lie. _Damn._

* * *

_Ever..._

I walk in the Training Center after another night at the whore-hotel. Despite Finnick's efforts to cheer me up last night, I am still beyond depressed. I feel even more disgusting, knowing that I've done it again.

Willingly.

I can't risk going to Finnick two nights in a row- I only promised to go to him if I needed to _discuss _my problems. I don't need to discuss anything, I just need somebody to hug me while I cry. Or maybe two somebodies.

No, not my father. Daddy will want to ask questions. Not Raewyn, she'll tell for sure. _That leaves only one option_, I think as I step into the elevator and press the '11' button.

* * *

**Random Quote of the day:**

***Discussing our favorite bands***

**Friend1: All Time Low!**

**Friend2: Nickleback, duh.**

**Freind3: Mayday Parade!**

**Friend4: Lady Antebellum!**

**Me: ABBA!**

**Friends: Who?**

**Me: GO DIE!**


	33. Timorous

**Timorous  
**

* * *

tim·or·ous [tim-er-uhs]

–adjective

1. full of fear; fearful: The noise made them timorous.

2. subject to fear; timid.

3. characterized by or indicating fear: a timorous whisper.

* * *

_Ever..._

Immediately after pressing the '11' button I hurry to press '12.' _Chaff and Seeder probably don't have time to talk to me anyway. Not only that, but I can't even tell them the truth! How lame is it to just ask for a hug? You're such an idiot Ev-_

Before I can move my hand to close the elevator doors as they open on floor 11, I am spotted. Seeder was standing by the up and down buttons. "There you are! I haven't seen you at all since we got here this year- how's life?"

"Oh, it's fine." I say, trying to hide the fact that my voice is breaking.

Seeder is no idiot and she notices right away. "What happened?"

"I can't-" I begin to tell her that I can't tell her but she will just get Chaff to double team me until I tell so I make the sentence go another way, "I can't take it!"

Seeder hugs me, "Let's sit down somewhere so you can tell me everything." I nod and follow her to her room. She bangs her fist against Chaff's door. I can hear him swear at her from the other side which makes me giggle.

"...I was sober today Seeder, I promise! My daughter was ly- I found her!" He points at me.

"Found me?" I ask.

"Haymitch has been looking for you." He explains. "You look...not happy. What's wrong?"

"That's why I bothered you. She looks like she needs somebody to listen." Seeder explains.

"Do they read minds in District 11? Because you always do that!" I joke with a lame attempt at smiling. Seeder smiles at me but is unconvinced. The three of us sit down in her room.

"Tell us what's going on, Ev." Chaff says.

"Everything." Seeder adds.

"Promise to keep this between the three of us?" I ask, particularly eying Chaff. I know he will tell Daddy unless I tell him not to. They nod. I take a deep breath and give the Capitol approved version of my current situation. "It's just so hard mentoring these kids! I'm friends with the both of them- twenty-four go in one one comes out and I know that neither of them have a chance! As if that isn't bad enough freaking Snow won't leave me alone! I haven't even had one _second _to breathe since Snow randomly popped up at home this summer. It's like every move I make and every breath I take and every word I say the whole world is watching me- I don't like that feeling! I just wish the nightmares would go away! I miss being able to close my eyes without worrying about what is going to 'get' me when I do! I want my normal ho-hum life back- that's all I want!" I begin to cry like a blubbering idiot.

Chaff reaches for my hand with his good arm and gives it a reassuring squeeze. "It gets better. I know it doesn't seem like it, but it will."

"That's the same thing Daddy says. But it's been over twenty years and he still has nightmares. He sleeps with a knife in his hand, Chaff- who _does _that? Will that be _me _in twenty years?"

"I don't know...but you can stop pretending like that's all you have wrong with you. There's more, tell us." He says, making eye contact. Chaff's usual carefree and fun personality is replaced with a serious one.

"I...I can't tell you two everything. Snow said that if I tell everything I will not like what happens." Seeder hugs me again and Chaff follows. I feel like a sandwich. "Thanks," I mumble. "I should really get back to floor 12, though. Tell Kieran and Miranda I said 'hey.'" Chaff nods as I get up to leave.

* * *

_Seeder..._

Oh no.

Poor Ever! She doesn't deserve anything that has happened to her this past year. _What is going on with her and Snow?_

As soon as she closes the door behind her I turn to Chaff and punch his bad arm. "I know how we can figure it out!"

"Ow, figure out what?" He asks annoyed.

"That Capitol servant girl- the adorable-looking blonde?- is always handing Ever little papers and envelopes. Have you noticed?" Chaff nods blankly. I roll my eyes and continue, "Ever never looks too happy after reading them. They _must _be from Snow! We just have to hang around her enough and grab one of the papers after she throws it away!"

He stares at me. "You sound really psycho right now, but if it's going to help the kid then I'm in."

* * *

_Haymitch..._

"Haymitch!" Effie yells, swinging the door open. I scream (in a manly way) then swear at her. She sighs and flicks a light on. "I came to tell you that your daughter has, in fact, decided not to fall off the face of the Earth."

"You found her?" I ask hopefully.

"She just went to her room to sleep." She grumbles.

"Thanks for telling me. You can jump off the roof now." I shove her out the door and slam it shut. I consider being really mean and waking Ever, demanding answers. But I don't. I just lie awake for what feels like hours staring at the ceiling.

Afraid.

I don't fear for myself, but only for my daughter. She has been pulled away from the crowd too often these past two or three days and I don't like it. She's a mentor and shouldn't have to be pulled away like this. What could the Capitol possibly want with her? She isn't leading a secret operation to overthrow the Capitol, she isn't a goddess to be used for prostitution- no.

That can't be it! Can it?

She would have said something to me! She would have- no!

_If it isn't prostitution, then what is it...?_

* * *

_Ever..._

The next morning I wake up earlier than most of the other mentors, tributes, stylists and escorts. Except Effie. That woman doesn't sleep. Is she a vampire or something?

Psh, I wish she was a vampire. That'd be cool.

We say our good mornings and make no further conversation.

Today is the day Ant and Ivy start training in the training room with other tributes. Today is the day they need to make alliances.

Here's hoping they don't blow it.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

I couldn't go back to sleep last night so here I am, as awake as I was four hours ago and just as afraid. I can't remember a time when I feared for my little girl so much.

Little girl- not anymore. She's all grown up. It happened so fast- she was born thirteen years ago...how come I remember it like it was yesterday?_Probably because that's the happiest day of your life. _Yeah, maybe. Or maybe it's the fact that that is one of the only times I know that I remember correctly for sure. Large portions of the next thirteen years come to me in a jumbled up blur. Sure, there are a few times periods that I can remember perfectly but even then they are little blips. That first year is the only one I can be sure of. Her birth, first smile (it was at her mother), first laugh, first steps, first word (tried to say 'Daddy,' but instead said 'Da'ee).

Then it is all a blur, lost somewhere in a mess of empty bottles.

Maybe I wrote a few things down- Rose always mentioned wanting to do that throughout our daughter's life.

Maybe there are a few lost and forgotten pieces of paper with chicken-scratched depictions of my cognizance of Ever's life- what little cognizance I can have drunk.

Even then, though. Even if I can somehow make sense of the blurred memories I can never re-do those years and Ever will never be a little girl again.

_You missed your chance, Haymitch. Just face it._

* * *

**Random Quote of the day:**


	34. Disquiet

**Disquiet  
**

* * *

dis·qui·et [dis-kwahy-it]

–noun

1. lack of calm, peace, or ease; anxiety; uneasiness.

–verb (used with object)

2. to deprive of calmness, equanimity, or peace; disturb; make uneasy: _The news disquieted him._

–adjective

3. Archaic . uneasy; disquieted.

* * *

_Ever..__._

I look Ivy up and down, trying to make sense of a possible interview angle for her. I know Daddy and Effie are supposed to do the interview angles, but seeing as Daddy is still asleep, I know Ivy better than anybody else, and after having seen her fail miserably with weapons, I need to get her sponsors by helping her have a great interview. Since I know her so well, I have the best shot at figuring out her angle.

And so far, that is also failing.

Ivy can't be described to the Capitol in three minutes. Ivy is...Ivy. She's not too intelligent, she's pretty, she very sensitive, serious, can't take jokes...how can I possibly convey any of that to the Capitol? Anything I can give them will be fake or over-dramatized version of my best friend! _Best friend. _Suddenly I start to feel terrible. _My best friend is going into the arena to certain death. This isn't fair._

"Ivy?" I ask softly.

"Huh?" She responds.

"This is going to sound really stupid, Ives, but I want you to wing it."

"You want me to just _go _on the interviews?" She asks, totally shocked.

"Yes. Just do the interview and answer the questions as you. People tend to live Ivy Hopeflame when she is being herself."

Her face brightens up, "Really?"

"Uh huh. That's why I talked to you the day I met you in the Hob. How old were we? Three?"

Ivy giggled and repeats, "Three...what were two three year olds doing in the Hob?"

"Easy!" I laugh. "Daddy needed liquor-"

"-and Papa needed cigarettes." Ivy finishes.

"How is your father anyway?" I ask. Not like I really care about Vulcan Hopeflame anyway but I suppose it will not hurt to pretend.

"He's as harsh as usual. You know he and Haymitch used to be friends?"

I nod, "D'you know what happened?"

Ivy shakes her head and says she has no clue. "I just know that they weren't trying to hide any of the animosity in front of us when we met."

_Flashback..._

_"Dah-dee I don' like the 'ob. Is scawwy!" I exclaim in my tiny three year old voice. _

_"Then I'll hold you." He says gruffly._

_"Otay Dah-dee." I say, letting him pick me up and hold me. When I bury my head into his shoulder, he moves a hand to my ponytail and messes with it. I giggle a little, "Staw' it!"_

_He smiles, "Don't think I will, sweetheart."_

_"Papa dat guy scares me!" I hear a small voice say to it's father._

_"Sissy dat guy ain't scawwy!" Says another small voice._

_"Dah-dee lemme see!" I command. He left me turn my head toward the two voices. I see two kids with dark hair, a girl with brown eyes and pale skin and a boy with brown eyes and olive skin. I don't think about saying 'hello' just yet because I am still afraid of the Hob._

_"Done staring, Ever?" Daddy asks me._

_"Nuh uh!" I say. The boy and girl- brother and sister no doubt- keep fighting. Their father roughly tells them to behave so he can buy his cigarettes. I see Daddy look closely at the man._

_"Oh my..." I hear him mutter._

_"Wha' is it Dah-dee?"_

_"Nothing, sweetheart. I just know that man from a long time ago, we used to be friends."_

_"Oh..." I say. "Can I say hello to the little girl?" Daddy gently shoves me in the girl's direction. I wave cheerily, "Hewwo! I Ever, who you?"_

_The girls turns away from her brother and faces me. "Ooh hwi! Me Ivy, dis Ivy brudder Jotchy!"_

_"Joshua." Corrects their father. He looks at Daddy and gasps. "_Haymitch_?"_

_"Vulcan." Daddy mumbles rather than says._

_"Still drinking like a fish, I see."_

_Daddy's face flushes angrily. "Ever. Come on, sweetie."_

_"But- oh otay Dah-dee." I say, holding up my arms for him to pick me up._

_Vulcan Hopeflame calls after him, "Maybe if you stopping drinking so much you could be a better father."_

_End Flashback_

"And your father never explained what that was about?" I ask.

Ivy shrugs sadly. "Guess I'll never know."

There is a knock on the door of my room. I go to open the door only to find that it is Effie to tell me my time s up with Ivy. Effie inquires about her angle and nearly has a heart attack when I tell her she will be winging it. _The interviews are in three days...I hope it works._

"The Capitol maid servant has another message for you. Would you mind telling me what this is all about?" Effie informs me.

I shoot her a dirty look before storming to the elevator and to the common area of the Training Center. "Hila, you know where my room is." I tell her.

"I know Miss Ever but I am not really permitted to go up there."

"Oh...thanks Hila. Is this another you-know-what note?"

Hila shrugs. "I am not permitted to read them. Most likely, though." I mentally swear before quickly composing myself and thanking her for letting me know.

_Another meeting has been arranged for you with another wealthy and prominent Capitol man. He wants to take you to his own mansion to sort out business tonight. Remember- as long as you cooperate the men I arrange for you will sponsor your tributes handsomely. _

_-Cornelius Snow, President of Panem_

I angrily ball up the note and toss it in the trash.

* * *

_Seeder..._

I nudge Chaff's daughter in the gut. "Ow! Gramma Seeder what's that for?"

"Miranda, go upstairs and get you father!" I command. She holds up her arms in the universal, 'whoa Nelly' gesture.

She must run quickly because Chaff is down in less than five minutes. "What's with scaring the life out of my daughter, Seeder?"

I point to the trash can. "The Capitol servant gril just handed Ever another note and she threw it away _right _over there."

"Did you grab it?"

"_I'm _not touching garbage!" I exclaim. Chaff rolls his eyes and makes a very sexist comment. I choose to ignore him until he brings the note out of the trash can. The two of us examine it carefully:

_Another meeting has been arranged for you with another wealthy and prominent Capitol man. He wants to take you to his own mansion to sort out business tonight. Remember- as long as you cooperate the men I arrange for you will sponsor your tributes handsomely._

_-Cornelius Snow, President of Panem_

Well this doesn't help at all. All we know is that snow makes Ever meet with Capitol men.

But why?

It _could _be some really weird way of getting sponsors like the note suggests but I doubt it is that simple._ "_Think Seeder, _think_." I say aloud.

"It's not healthy to talk to yourself, Seeder. Any idea what this note means?" He asks. I shake my head. "Maybe Haymitch will kn-"

"No! We can't take this to him." I say sternly.

"Well why not? Ever's _his _daughter. Wouldn't he know?" He asks confusedly.

I shake my head, "Haymitch would've told us something was going on if he knew. Even if he was supposed to keep it secret he'd tell you."

"Hm, you're right...but doesn't he have a right to know? I know I'd want to know if it were my daughter."

_My goodness the man is making sense! _"So would I- if I had a daughter that is. But there has to be a reason Haymitch doesn't know. If he doesn't know then neither should we. _So _since we aren't supposed to know let's just pretend like we never saw this note." I proceed crumpling it up.

Chaff nods slowly. "I still think Haymitch ought to know something's up."

"Tell him and I'll kidnap your kids and give them to the Capitol." I threaten. I always follow through with my threats.

His eyes widen and a he quickly changes the subject. "I have some gossip this year already."

"Ooh, do tell."

"Well..." He gives short but interesting list of the latest victor gossip. I do enjoy hearing the gossip but I usually don't care enough to remember any of it. I half-listen until I hear, "Oh and lastly, Haymitch and Raewyn have been caught in the middle of PDA by me, Finnick, Cruz-her fellow 9 mentor- and also Cecilia. Only thing is Ever doesn't know yet."

"Haymitch and Raewyn what!"

"Shh! I wasn't supposed to tell anybody!"

* * *

_Haymitch..._

I hear three loud, quick knocks on the door. "Effie, for the last time I-"

The person giggles as I swing the door open, "I'm not Effie!"

I smile. Actually _smile_. I feel like one of those teenagers as I let her in. "Shouldn't you be with your tributes?" I ask.

"Shouldn't _you_?"

"Er, it's just interview prep today. Ever knows them better than I do. What about your two?"

She sighs, "They're going to really put heavy emphasis on their relationship. They'll get sympathy sponsors but that's about it. I'm having Cruz and Isis take care of that." Cruz is the only living male victor from 9 and Isis won three years after Raewyn did.

"What are you doing up here anyway?"

Her face falls. "You're not happy to see me?"

"Of course I am it's just I'm not sure how Ever will feel, you know?"

She nods understandingly. "I'm not sure how my kids will feel either. They were more upset about the stupid divorce than I was- they still are, actually. Build a bridge and get over it." I can tell she doesn't mean it as harshly as she is making it sound. "I feel gross, can I take a quick shower here?"

"Go ahead." I say, trying to push away the mental images I am getting.

"Thanks- I'll be quick."

"Take as long as you need. I can never figure out all of those buttons." _Bad Haymitch! Dirty thoughts must go!_

* * *

**Random Quote of the day:**

**(Sorry this was blank last time! lol)**

**"Flying is learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss." - Douglas Adams  
**


	35. Animal

I am running out of big words to use so for a while I am switching back to song titles or poem titles :)

So now everyone can be well-rounded and know amazing poems or songs- yay! But I promise, if another cool word fits the story it WILL be used!

* * *

**Animal**

* * *

_Here we go again,  
We're sick like animals  
We play pretend  
You're just  
A cannibal  
And I'm afraid  
I won't get out alive  
I won't sleep tonight_

_-Neon Trees "Animal"_

* * *

_Ever..__._

I tie my chestnut brown hair up with a black ribbon, careful to spend extra time on tying the ribbon into a bow- my clients seem to like the 'little-girl' hairstyle. _Clients. That word makes me sick._

After perfecting my hairstyle I slip out of my jeans and t-shirt I put on a short, white, strapless dress with a black cardigan over it. President Snow sent me another note saying that I must meet the new man behind the Training Center where his limo would take us to his manor.

I flushed that note down the toilet as soon as I got it- after tearing it into shreds, of course. I wonder how long I can keep this up before someone other than Finnick finds out.

Finnick seems to really have meant what he said about me being able to come to him about everything. Earlier today, sometime between receiving the first note and the second, he must have noticed by my attitude that I had to meet with another Capitol man. He bent down and whispered in my ear, "I'm always here, kid."

_To be honest, I'm shocked he hasn't slipped up and told someone yet. _

With one last sigh, I flick off the lights in my room, grab my purse and sneak downstairs to the back door of the Training Center.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

I notice the shower isn't running after awhile and figure that Raewyn must be finished showering. The lock on the door clicks to unlock but the door is barely cracked open. "Er, Haymitch?"

"Hm?"

"Um, do you have a shirt I can borrow just for tonight? Zahra decided to use mine as a napkin at dinner." Good thing she is in the bathroom or else she would have seen me- dare I say it- blush like a fool. I tell her that I have one and find a plain grey t-shirt. A _clean _grey t-shirt. Living with a female has it's benefits; like clean clothes. "Thanks, just pass it through the door." I walk to the door and pass her the shirt- trying to ignore the fact that the only thing she is wearing is her panties...no bra or towel.

_Stop being so perverted, Haymitch!_

"That's better." She says less than a minute later, walking out of the bathroom with her hair still soaked and still wearing nothing but her underwear on the lower half of her body. _Is she really nearly six months pregnant? _She looks up at me and smirks, "I'm sorry, I can always put my ketchup-stained jeans back on if this bothers you."

"No, it doesn't bother me." I say like such a man.

She grins, "I didn't think you'd have a problem with it so I threw my jeans down the laundry chute anyway." She pauses before saying, "It's late. Do you mind if I just stay here tonight?" _What is this woman trying to do?_

"Not at all." I say, having a hard time looking at her eyes; she notices this but pretends not to. "But who is watching-"

"Starlyn and Zahra are with Isis. She loves kids."

"Well then I'll take the couch so you can-"

She frowns. "We can share. Pregnancy isn't _contagious _you know. Besides, men don't even give birth- unless you are a seahorse which you aren't."

"Male seahorses give birth?" That's disturbing.

"Yep. Gross isn't it?" She says mischievously. _This woman is driving me insane! What does she want? _"I don't bite." She taps the spot in the bed next to her and I reluctantly join her. _Women are strange._

She moves next to me so there isn't any space at all. "Do you need me to move over?"

"No, this is fine." She sighs. At this point, I mentally kick myself. _Now I get it! _I wrap an arm around her and she smiles and closes her eyes. "You're good at cuddling."

I smile.

She leans her head against me before opening her eyes, turning to me and whispering seductively, "I know you can do better than that." She reaches for the shirt I am wearing. "Willing to prove it, Haymitch?"

* * *

_Ever..._

"I cooperated tonight." I remind tonight's client. He is none other than Vice President Cole.

Cole nods, "That you did."

"I kept up my end of the deal...I trust you will keep yours?"

"Of course." Says Cole. I nod. He thanks and and I turn to leave.

_Animal! Vice President Cole is an Animal! As one of the leaders of Panem one would think he'd have more decency than to force thirteen year old child to sleep with him, knowing that I won't object to protect my father and save one of my tribute's lives! Snow and Cole are nothing more than animals...no, animals are cute and cuddly. Snow and Cole are like _cannibals.

The lobby of the Training Center is deserted except for me when I walk in. I beeline to the elevator with unfallen tears flooding my eyes. Luckily, I can still see to press the '12' button. The elevator goes all the way up, stops and opens on the twelfth floor- but I don't get out. Instead, I angrily punch the button to close the doors and, tears starting to fall and blur my vision, search, find and press the '4' button. The elevator does it's job and takes me to Finnick's floor. I run to his door as fast as I can and bang my fists against the door. I probably just woke up the whole floor but I really do not care.

The door to Finnick's room swings open and my surrogate brother comes to the door in nothing but his underwear. The sight of him being practically naked doesn't bother me so it's no surprise that I shove him into his roof and hug him. "Do you need to talk, Ever?" He asks. I am too upset to speak so I just nod. "Get comfy on the bed, kid. I'll get some pants on then we can talk."

"Okay." I mouth.

* * *

:( Poor Ever! At least Raemitch adds some comic relief

I really suck at the scenes like the Haymitch/Raewyn one I (attempted to write) wrote so, er, sorry XD

**Random Quote of the day:**

**Carl from llamas with hats: Friendship is munching on a cooked face together.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**How perfectly hilarious is this? I had my playlist on shuffle while typing the Haymitch POV and guess what song randomly came on? Anyway You Want It/Lovin' Touchin' Squeezin' mashup by Glee! Hahaha I nearly died XD**


	36. I Have A Dream

ABBA is amazing. If you don't know this song, then uh, YouTube it or face my wrath!

* * *

**I Have A Dream**

* * *

_I have a dream, a fantasy  
To help me through reality_

_-ABBA, "I Have A Dream"_

* * *

_Ever..__._

Finnick walks to the drawers in his room and finds a shirt for himself. He puts it on then sits down next to me on his bed. "What's going on, kid? Tell me everything."

I take a deep breath. "Tonight, my client was-"

Finnick inhales sharply. "Don't say client! Don't refer to them as that, Ever! You're too good t-" Finnick stops shouting and becomes calm again. "Please, just don't."

"Okay...well then, the man I had to see tonight was Vice President Cole. He was...different than all of the others."

Finnick pretends to be calm and asks, "Like...how?"

"He wasn't okay with me just...doing nothing while he had his way. He made me particip-"

"Ever please let me tell somebody! I can't just keep this from everybody! Don't you think they will find out?"

I begin to cry. "I want to tell but I can't! Snow will kill Daddy and kill everybody else I care about if everybody finds out." Finnick wraps an arm around me and lets me lean against him while I cry.

"Shh, you know I'm always here for you, but you've got to get tougher skin. Don't let them always get to you. Show Snow and Cole that you are a better person than they are."

"But I'm not! I'm a terrible person, I'm a dirty whore!"

Finnick grabs my shoulder and holds on with a lot of force. "F-Finnick that hurts!"

He doesn't let go. Instead, his grip tightens still and he sternly looks into my eyes. "Don't say that about yourself! You are a sweet, beautiful young woman. You are not just some whore! I won't have you being self-loathing like that. You need to find all of the happiness you can and being so harsh on yourself will only make it worse!"

I pry his fingers from my arm. "Oh and having some fantasy about the world will make it _better _somehow? What is a fantasy but a delusion?"

"No, a fantasy is just as bad. But what you can choose to do is find happiness in everyday things."

"Like what!" I shout.

Finnick smiles calmly. "Well...like your favorite things."

I tilt my head to the side and ask, "What are _your _favorite things, Finnick?"

He smiles and answers, "I like the sound of rain falling and the sound of ocean waves. The taste of saltwater as you come up out of the ocean, the smell of the air in District 4. Kittens are cute, I love it when little kids smile and I love the smells of baby powder and campfires. Cinnamon is amazing and I love to hear laughter. You have an adorable laugh, by the way. Now you try. Tell me _your _favorite things."

I don't even think. I just name of things I like as they come to me, "I like dancing barefoot in the pouring rain, the moonlight streaming in through my bedroom window. Snow- the kind that falls from the sky...I like laughter too. Climbing trees is fun and I too, love the smell of campfires. Rainbows are pretty but the sky is so filled with coal dust in 12 that it is hard to see one. I like annoying my father and getting hugs...is that enough?

Finnick smiles. "Perfect. Don't you feel better thinking about happy things?"

Suddenly, I feel all warm and fuzzy inside. "I do!"

"Are you staying here tonight or are you going to the twelfth floor?" He asks, prepared to shove everything onto the floor so I can sleep. I shake my head and tell him I should get back to my floor or else Effie will freak out again. Finnick reluctantly agrees but demands a hug first. I giggle and hug him. He returns it and reaches behind him. "It's cold." He explains as he hands me his jacket.

"Don't you need-"

"I have another just like it. You should feel privileged. I've let you share a bed with me, gave you my shirt and gave you my _jacket _all in the same week. Now off to bed with you!"

"Goodnight."

"Yeah, yeah g'night."

I step into the elevator and press the '12' button to arrive on the twelfth floor.

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What I am about to say may shock you. It may even horrify you! But the first thing I see when I step out of the elevator is the door of my father's room opening. I hear laughing and an exchange of 'see you tomorrow's'. _Tomorrow? It is three o'clock in the morning! What's somebody doing in Daddy's room at three in the morning?_

No way!

The mysterious guest is none other than the freshly divorced Raewyn. I see her and Daddy lean in and kiss each other. _What! _Good thing I am hiding behind a hall plant, because otherwise, I'd be dead meat.

When they make thier way toward the elevator, I hurry to press a button to open it so it looks like I just got there. The elevator door opens just as they are coming within twenty feet of it. "Hey." I say casually, pretending to just walk out of it.

"Oh!" They say in unison. They look...embarrassed. _Are the sex rumors true?_

Daddy, especially, looks embarrassed. "I, uh, I thought you were asleep."

"I was talking to Finnick. It was a very satisfying conversation. I thought _you _would be in bed, too." _Oh! Wrong wording wrong wording! How much do you wanna _bet _they were _both _in bed!_

"Well, uh, we were also having one of those conversations. Just uh...chilling. Because that's what adults do. We chill." He says awkwardly.

Raewyn just laughs, "See you two later. Haymitch has an awkward situation to talk himself out of!" She waves cheerily and presses the button to close the elevator.

As soon as Daddy turns to hurry back to his room, I hurry to catch up with him. I reach up and grab his shoulder, turn him around to face me and with a I-told-you-so voice say, "You had sex, didn't you!"

* * *

**Almost 300 reviews! ThankYouThankYouThankYou!**

**I love you guys!**

**Random Quote of the day:**

**(From the anime Hetalia Axis Powers...watch it!)**

**Russia: My name is Russia! I'm the biggest country in the world! My favorite food is pieorgi and... vodka? It's my fuel you see.  
**

**Germany: *thinking*'Well, he looks more normal than I thought.'  
**

**Russia: And my hobby is partitioning Poland! ;D  
**

**Germany: *thinking*'He really IS Russia...' =_=  
**


	37. Ashes and Wine

**Ashes And Wine**

* * *

_Is there a chance?  
A fragment of light at the end of the tunnel?  
A reason to fight?_

_-A Fine Frenzy "Ashes and Wine"_

* * *

_Ever..__._

"Admit it! You and Raewyn were shackin' it up!" I say.

"What! I've never heard it being called...shackin' it up."

"So you _were _having sexual relations with that woman?"

"What does it _matter_? We're both adults and it isn't like one of us is having an affair?"

"Yeah, but you sleep with someone and don't tell me you are in a relationship, how does that work?" I ask, confused. We aren't arguing, simply discussing.

He rolls his eyes, "I didn't want you to find out yet. I wasn't sure what you would think."

"I'm a kid, who _cares _what _I _think. I don't control your sex life- ohmygosh you're like, not a celibate virgin-guy anymore!"

"I have a kid! How can I be a virgin!"

"Well, not doing it for thirteen years kind of cancels that out. For a guy at least. Girls it kind of matters more." _Believe me, it does._

"Why are we even discussing virginity? You're thirteen, how do you even know about that stuff?"

"Uh, perverted kids from Twelve, Daddy." I say quickly.

"Still, that's gross!"

I roll my eyes, "You still should have told be about Raewyn. Like, the day it happened! What would you do if I were in a sexual relationship with somebody and did not tell you?"

"Okay first of all, we are not in a completely _sexual _relationship. We did it once- and that is _all _you will hear me discuss about my sex life. Second, you'd _better _be a virgin and better stay that way until you are twenty-five- no!- thirty!"

_Oh gawsh! I have to tell him! _"Daddy-" I begin.

"What?" He asks, kind of embarrassed.

"I don't think I can wait until I am twenty-five." _I can't tell him! I can't, I can't, I can't!_

"Thirty."

"Well yeah, that's kind of an epic fail."

"Why!"

"Because...do you really think that with teenage hormones I'll be able to be celibate?" I lie. _This is such a mess!_

"A-hem!" An annoyingly high voice comes form behinds us.

Effie Trinket heard our entire conversation. As did our tributes.

Lovely.

* * *

_Seeder..._

I can't get Chaff, Miranda _or _Kieran to wake up when I do, so I head down to the dining hall alone.

I run into none other than Finnick Odair. _Hey! He'll know what's up with Ever, they're very buddy-buddy. _"How's life, Odair?" I asks, not really interested in his answer.

"It's life. You, Seeder?"

"Did I say you could use my first name?"

"You'd rather me call you Keller?"

"True. Anyway, I know you know what is up with Ever."

His eyes widen and he makes a point to make eye contact. _A sign of lying. _"I've no idea what you are talking about."

I slam my palm down on the table he is lazily sitting at. "I know you know that I know you are lying. So tell me what I know you know about Ever or you don't want to know what I will do to you if you don't tell me what you know!"

"I ca- it's not my secret to tell." He says in a hushed voice.

"Come on, Odair, just tell me! I promise I won't tell anybody- not even Chaff."

He beckons me closer and whispers, "Snow is forcing her to do something...something really bad."

"Gee, that was helpful!" I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Will this make you tell? I found a handwritten note Snow gave her." I recite it form memory. "What. Did. Snow. Do. To. Her!"

He bites his lip and says. "She's...well it's the same thing the Capitol did to m-"

"No!" I exclaim, finally catching on. _Sure, I considered the possibility, but- no! It's just impossible... _"That isn't even funny, O-"

"It's not a joke. And please...Finnick."

"Fine. _Finnick_. Tell me that you are telling me some sick joke!" It is more of a plea than a demand. The thought of one of my un-official grandchildren being forced into prostitution is just-

"I'm not." Finnick says, shaking his head sadly.

"Is that why she's been so chummy with you?"

He nods, "I've been helping her through it, been giving her that shoulder to cry on."

I clasp my hands together and close my eyes. "Thank you, Finnick. Thank you."

His shocked that I am being so uncharacteristically kind to him. "Uh...why?"

"For helping her. She's like the granddaughter I never had and I hate to see this happen to her. How can Haymitch condone-"

"He doesn't know." Finnick says simply. "Don't tell him or there will be consequences. In fact, act like Ever and I are the only ones to know."

I reluctantly agree. "Okay. But only to protect Ever."

* * *

_Haymitch..._

I wake up the next morning still feeling so damn embarrassed. What possibly goes on in that child's head to automatically assume Raewyn and I were...yenno! Okay, maybe even a little kid would assume 'adult things' since she _did _leave at three in the morning- but still! Interrogating me about the 'V' word? My goodness.

That child had best be a 'V' word!

I hear a knock on my door. "Wake up! It's a big big big day!" I groan and yell at the person to go away. Effie apparently has a key card so she just allows herself right in. "Well maybe if you weren't up until some ungodly hour fulfilling your sexual desires, you wouldn't be so tired on the day of your tributes interviews!"

_Tributes? Ah, fudge. I completely forgot about the Games and the tributes- they go into the arena tomorrow. Why should I even try? They'll maybe, just maybe survive the bloodbath this year but as far as I know neither of them have made alliances. There is no chance for them. Without a chance, there is no reason. What is the point in even trying to fight if there is no reason?_

I shove Effie out of the room so I can get dressed.

I hate these Games.

Tributes are nothing to the Capitol. They are like coal ashes to be discarded without a second thought. There is plenty more coal from where those ashes came from.

But the tributes are people too. Children, unless they are eighteen- then they just barely adults. I've seen too many young people die to not know the outcome of this year's Games. A Career victory, no doubt.

Traces of a long ago conversation float back to my memory.

_'I can still name off all of the tributes I've had, you know. Even though it's been almost ten years and I'm drunk most of the time. I know thier faces and little inklings of their personalities.'_

_'Then tell me, Haymitch.'_

_'Rose, don't you think that is a bit morbid?'_

_'Maybe a little, but suppressing everything isn't good for you. It'll drive you mad- I'd the baby have a somewhat sane father.'_

_'Well who says it isn't more fun being mad?'_

_'Tell me about the first pair you had.'_

_'Rose-'_

_'Sh...go on. Tell me their names and ages at least.'_

_'Nolan Hamza, 15 and Kassidy Parker, 14. They were both Seam kids- not surprisingly.'_

_'Tesserae.' _

_'Yes. You have no idea how good you had it growing up, Rose. You and your siblings and cousins don't need to put your names in extra times. Mine was in thirty-six times.'_

_'That's a lot of tesserae. Tell me about the second pair.'_

_'Paxton Alder, 18 and Charity Burbank, 13. Kids from the Ridge, that area between town and the Seam?'_

_'I know the Ridge. The third?'_

_'Olson Porter, 14 and Meggie Dawson, 18. Meggie killed Olson when I told him to trust her. I realize now that you never trust your district partner.'_

_'Fourth...'_

It went on like that until I had a minor breakdown about the twelve year old girl Marnie Echo I mentored. She was a little girl from town and had one of the most gruesome deaths of all- the Careers played with her dismembered body.

Now that I think about it, Marnie reminds me of Ever...or is it _Ever _that reminds me of _Marnie_?

I doubt that they are similar anymore, not after all Ever has had to deal with in the past year, but when she was still free from knowing the "lovely joys and wonderful pleasures" of being a victor she was so much like innocent little Marnie.

Smiling.

Laughing.

Full of energy.

Carefree.

A child.

I hate the Capitol more than I've hated them before for taking my daughter's childhood from her.

_They took nearly everything from me and left only her. Why couldn't they just leave her the way she was? I learned my lesson about making the Capitol look stupid. Loosing Mother, Dionysus, Natalie and Rose was more than enough. Why did I have to loose my little girl, too? _

Yeah, Ever is still alive, but nobody survives the arena without scars. She hides it because she knows. She knows that, I too, am scared and damaged from the arena, that there are pieces that I can never even hope to get back. She knows that I know the same thing has happened to her. But she will never admit it. She knows her 'Daddy' can't handle her being as damaged as he is so she keeps it all inside. And she hides it oh_so_well behind her broken smiles and half-hearted giggles. But she is always wondering when everything will be okay again.

I wish it was as simple as it was when she was a baby. No matter how hard she cried it could always be fixed with gently rocking her in my arms and telling her how much I love her and how everything is okay or telling her, 'sh.'

Not anymore.

I open up another bottle and drink a good amount, but not enough to where Ever will know.

_I promised._

* * *

**Random Quote of the day:**

**(This happened to me today)**

***censored*: McKala, you're flat chested, face it!**

**ME: AM NOT! I'm not a hoe who wears cleavage-showing shirts!**

***censored*: Flat ch-**

**Me: *bites guy friend who said that***


	38. Guilty Secret

I do not own the song "Cry" nor do I own the Hunger games. Faith Hill sings "Cry" and the songwriters own the rights.

* * *

**Guilty Secret**

* * *

_I'm living with a guilty secret, deep in my heart,  
Living in a guilty secret life;_

_We meet at night, we stay out late..._

_-Chris De Burgh, "Guilty Secret"_

* * *

_Ever..__._

_If I had just one tear running down your cheek_  
_Maybe, I could, cope maybe I'd get some sleep_  
_If I had, just one moment at your expense_  
_Maybe all my misery would be well spent_

_Yeah... Could you cry a little_  
_Lie just a little_  
_Pretend that you're feeling a little more pain_  
_I gave now I 'm wanting_  
_Something in return_  
_So cry just a little for me_

_If your love could be caged, honey I would hold the key  
And conceal it underneath the pile of lies you handed me  
And you'd hunt those lies  
They'd be-_

I stop singing and pressing the guitar chords on the app on my music player, at a loss for lyrics to follow where I'd stopped. I suppose it is hard writing a break-up song if you've never been in a relationship. Still, it seemed fun to write and so far, it _has_ been pretty fun. I close my notbook and toss the pencil to the other side of the room, too lazy to try to figure it out now. I go the bed, ready to take a nap but just as I go to lie down, someone opens the door.

_How did Effie Trinket get a key card?_ She's goes on about how the interviews are a big, big, big day and how I need to join everybody for breakfast. I grumble before agreeing and walking downstairs in my pajamas which are just a pair of grey shorts and a t-shirt Kenton left at the house in Victor's Village one time.

Effie and her ridiculous pink wig make me want to punch her in the face so badly, but I don't. How would the Capitol take that? I giggle to myself and snap at Effie when she asks why I am giggling. I sit between Daddy and Ivy and nibble on butter bread. Today is not only interview day, but it is the day where they show the Gamemakers their skills. I am just hoping the do better than the District 12 norm. Daddy seems to realize it is hopeless too, but he puts on a hopeful face for me. He knows both of our tributes are my friends.

I glance over at the District 11 table and see Chaff talking with the tan-skinned black-haired victor from 9, Isis. His jaw drops open and he glances over at Daddy. He gets up from the table and ninjas his way over to our table. He taps Daddy on the shoulder- good thing the only people sitting down are Cinna, Portia, Effie, Daddy and I. "Isis told me what happened last night."

Daddy looks really embarrassed. "What...?"

Chaff grins evilly. "Did you sleep with Raewyn last night?"

"We weren't exactly _sleeping_-"

"Too much information!" Chaff presses his hands against his ears, causing me to fall over backwards and laugh until my sides hurt.

Apparently, Cinna and Portia haven't been clued in and they spit their water all over the place.

Which makes me laugh harder.

I take another glance over at the District 11 table and see Kieran and Miranda fighting over a piece of cheesecake while Seeder is looking at me sadly. No, more like staring. _WTF?_

I go back up to my room on floor 12.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

I really wish these idiots would stop talking about what happened last night and find some other gossip. Like...I know for a _fact _that the mentor from 5, Ina and one of the victors from 2, Patroklus are _both _married and have been having an affair for five years. If only I could expose that whole mess...

I go upstairs to check on Ever. "You're worried about today." I state rather than ask.

"That obvious?" I nod. "Great. I don't want to watch my friends die- especially not my _best _friend."

I give her small hand a squeeze and try reassuring her, "Ivy has a chance. So does Ant...Ant even more so. But they have a chance."

"I wish Ivy was never reaped. We've been best friends since we were three. That day in the Hob, remember?"

I bite my lip. _I remember. That's the day I ran into Vulcan Hopeflame for the first time in three years. _"I remember."

"What was up with you and Ivy's dad?"

I bite my lip again, "Complicated." I say, sitting down beside her on the bed in her room.

"Explain." She presses.

I sigh, knowing she won't stop until I just tell her what she wants to know. "Vulcan married Regina a few years before your mother and I were in a relationship. He was friends with Rose and was four year younger than me. He loved her too and though he was married, tried to get her to sleep with him and stuff like that. That's all that happened."

"Oh." Ever says. "That doesn't surprise me. Mom was pretty- I found a picture of her near the hall closet shortly after the Victory Tour. You don't mind that I kept it, do you?" She asks, as if she will be in trouble.

It must be obvious that I am shocked. "Of course I don't mind, sweetheart." I grin- Ever is the only one I can call 'sweetheart' without being sarcastic about it. "You deserve to know what she looked like. She was your mother."

"Really?" I nod. "Thanks, Daddy."

I turn to face her. "Are you okay with...Raewyn?" I ask her.

"Well yeah." She says quietly. "Mom would want us to be happy, right?"

"Right..."

She smiles, "I'm happy if you are, and Raewyn makes you smile. So of course I'm okay with it."

"Are you sure, sweetheart."

She nods and says, "I'm sure. And, she's really nice to me. Anyone nice is okay in my book." We laugh, but stop when there is a knock on the door. Ever rolls her eyes, "Effie go away! We have a whole two hours until the Gamemaker sessions start."

"Not Effie!" A masculine voice says from the other end. _Finnick?_ Ever gasps and hurries to open the door. "Ever I'm so, so, so sorry! I told Seeder about it, I-"

"Finnick!" Ever shrieks, jerking her head in my direction.

"F*ck." Finnick breathes.

"What did you tell Seeder that I'm not supposed to know, Finnick?" I ask, absolutely terrified.

_What is going on with Ever? What do Finnick and Seeder know about my daughter?_

* * *

**Random Quote of the day:**

**Girl in youth group: What Would Jesus Do?**

**Me: Tralfazz Ganglia**

**Youth Leader: Huh?**


	39. Tiny Heart

Yeah this chapter is uber short but I wanted to do the interview stuff separately and I just HAD to have a cliffhanger last chapter.

The song lyric from the Flyleaf song, "Tiny Heart" kind of fits Haymitch and Ever at the moment (that's why the chapter bears the song's name) but the rest of the song doesn't really. Although I was listening to the Flyleaf playlist while I typed this chapter, so Flyleaf helped me haha...

...but then Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off came on and I was like, WT freaking F.

OH and read the poem- We Wear The Mask by Paul Laurence Dunbar! (An actual poet, not and FF user)

* * *

**Tiny Heart**

* * *

_Tiny heart,  
Stuck inside yourself  
When will you open up for me?  
_

_-Flyleaf, "Tiny Heart"_

* * *

_Haymitch..._

Finnick's eyes are wide with fear. It must be terrible if he wasn't allowed to say. "What. Do. You. Know?" I ask, a truly animalistic look appearing on my face.

Ever stands between us. "Daddy, please! Forget that that ever happened!"

Finnick backs her up, "Yeah Haymitch. You don't want to get involved in this. Just stay out of it and leave it to us and Seeder."

"Like _Hell _I am on going to leave it to the three of you! I want to know what Snow is doing to my daughter!" I shout.

"Daddy, please-" Ever's eyes are swimming with unfallen tears. "Just let it be, I can handle this."

My face soften as look down at my daughter. "Ever, sweetheart. You have to tell me." She shakes her head, causing the tears to fall freely. "Ever-"

"No! I can't tell you! I can't!" She screams.

"Why not?" I glance up at Finnick before turning the glance into a stare down. He swallows and shakes his head.

* * *

_Ever..._

Finnick swallows and shakes his head before putting a hand on my shoulder.

"F-Finnick." I whisper, looking to him for a solution.

"Kid-" He gestures toward my father. My eyes widen and I shake my head furiously. "Ever, you have to. He has to know now that I blew it."

"But Snow-" I begin.

"He won't. I promise."

I nod slowly, "Okay."

Daddy looks at me, hurt, confused and worried. "Ever, sweetheart please. What is going on?"

"I-I'm sorry!" Is all I can say right now. I cry while he hugs me.

"Tell me." He says sternly.

I take several deep breaths while he and Finnick try to calm me down before I can tell him. "When Snow came to our house after the Victory Tour...he offered me a 'position' as a Capitol courtesan...I declined but then he told me that the offer was really just a formality. He was notifying me that I was now forced into...into prostitution."

He pushes me away from him, which shocks and hurts me.

"Daddy-" I plead.

"You didn't. You didn't _tell _me? Dammit, Ever!" He shout angrily.

Finnick throws himself between us. "She wans't allowed to! _I _wasn't even supposed to find out. I figured it out on accident."

"Why not?" He asks me, not Finnick.

"To protect..." I trail off.

"To protect who?"

"You." I say, finally looking him in the eye.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

"To protect..."

"To protect who?" I ask, my voice dripping with venom

"You." Ever says, looking me in the eye.

I have to sit down on the couch. "What?" I mouth.

"Snow said he'd kill you if I told you."

I bury my head in my hands and place my elbows just above my knees. I don't care if my little girl notices me crying.

* * *

_Ever..._

Daddy buries his face in his palms and rests his elbows on his knees. It isn't long until I notice him shaking then hear sniffling. He's crying? _Daddy doesn't cry! He can't cry, he's...Daddy._

I look to Finnick for help and he is as confused as I am.

"Why?" I hear Daddy ask me. "Why, Ever?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you feel you had to protect me?"

"I didn't want Snow to kill you." I say softly.

He lifts his head up and pulls me into a hug. "Sweetheart...I don't care about myself. I haven't for almost thirteen and a half years. _You _are everything I care about and my whole world revolves around you. You can tell me _anything_ and I mean _anything_. You should have told me from the start and let Snow do whatever he wanted to me. It is you that I care and worry about."

I let him hug me until he speaks again.

"Has Snow made you...yenno or anything yet?"

I begin to cry again. "Y-Yes. Every night since we've been in the Capitol this y-" He jumps up angrily and beelines for the door. I run after him and attach myself to his leg like a scared five year old.

He tries to shake me off, "Ev-er! Get a-way!"

"No! What are you doing, anyway?" I shout.

"Kicking Snow's f*cking ass!"

"No!" Finnick and I shout in unison. "We can't let Snow know anything. you have to act like nothing is going on." I say.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

"We can't let Snow know anything. You have to act like nothing is going on." Ever says.

I can't do that. I can't just sit her every night while my daughter is being violated by men old enough to be her father...maybe even grandfather. The very thought makes me want to throw up.

_Where's a bottle when you need one?_

Why her? Why my innocent baby girl?

Innocent. I wish she still was. Does Snow even realize what he has done to her? I'm sure he does.

If only I could find a way to turn back time. I would move Heaven and Earth for my daughter if I could undo all of this. Her little heart doesn't deserve this torture. _She deserves to have her innocence back. I'm so sorry, sweetheart._

"I'm sorry I couldn't stop this." I whisper.

"It isn't your fault, Daddy."

"I'm sorry I blew it." Finnick apologizes to her.

"No. _Thank you _for blowing it." I say with a thankful but mirthless smile. "And thank you for helping her through it."

"No problem. She's like an adorable little sister."

_KnockKnockKnock! "_The Gamemaker sessions! Come on, it's a big, big, big event!"

_Leave it to Effie to spoil a serious moment._


	40. We Wear The Mask

**Gamemaker scores and -I couldn't help it, i'm sorry!- I had to put in an Ever/Raewyn bonding moment**

* * *

**We Wear The Mask**

* * *

_We wear the mask that grins and lies, _  
_ It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,— _  
_ This debt we pay to human guile; _  
_ With torn and bleeding hearts we smile, _  
_ And mouth with myriad subtleties._

_ Why should the world be over-wise, _  
_ In counting all our tears and sighs? _  
_ Nay, let them only see us, while _  
_ We wear the mask._

_ We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries _  
_ To thee from tortured souls arise. _  
_ We sing, but oh the clay is vile _  
_ Beneath our feet, and long the mile; _  
_ But let the world dream otherwise, _  
_ We wear the mask!_

_-Paul Laurence Dunbar_

* * *

_Ever..._

Daddy pulls out of the hug and pushes my hair from my face. "Are you okay, do you need to stay her and sleep?" I assure him that I am fine and he just goes with it.

Ant and Ivy are already waiting by the elevator. "What should I do for the Gamemakers?" Ivy asks me.

I bite my lip. "Find the nearest weapon and just do something."

"But I'm not good at anything." She whispers.

I turn to face her and grab her shoulders. "Ivy, I wasn't very good, either-"

"That's bull. You are excellent with the bow and arrow."

"Yes, but two of my allies were better and got to the bow and arrow sets before I did. I relied on a knife for a while, though I knew I could never kill somebody at close range- which is what I would need."

"District 1." Ivy reminds me.

"Self-defense impulse." I correct. "I could never have just walked up to them and done that."

Ivy nods and double checks, "Any random weapon?"

"First one you see. Let's try to get above a 2, 'kay?" I joke. Surprisingly, Ivy laughs. I turn to Ant who had shown promise with the spear. "You know what to do, right Ant?"

He adjusts his glasses before answering, "Sure, I guess so."

I pretend not to worry as we lead them to the gymnasium. "Good luck." I mumble as we reach the first set of metal double doors. Only tributes and Gamemakers are permitted to pass through the many sets of them on the day of the Gamemaker sessions.

I lean against a wall before turning on my heel and heading down the hall to the dining hall. I find an empty table and sit down; just to think.

_Ivy. _It is obvious she will die in the arena. I know it, Daddy knows it, Cinna knows it, Effie knows it, her parents and even Ivy _herself_ knows it. Why? Her name was in there twelve times due to the amount of tesserae she had to take, but there are plenty of other girls with their names in more.

It makes me sick to think about how happy I was when her name was reaped. In fact, 'happy' is a gross understatement. I was _elated_. Just thinking about what my first thoughts of her reaping were makes me want to throw up. Or better yet, die.

_Dying sounds wonderful right now. _A victor never truly lives again after they leave the arena. They are left with a half-life and fragments of what they once were. _Dying can't be that bad if you only have half a life to begin with._

"You look down." Says a familiar female voice, sitting across from me. My eyes [hopefully] brighten up but my lips don't curve up into a smile- only because I am too sad to smile. "Hm, worse than I thought. So what's up?" Raewyn asks, changing seats so she is next to me.

I turn to face her, "It's nothing. Kind of ridiculous, really."

"Yeah, false. Something's eating you, kiddo." She says. I look around for Starlyn and Zahra-Rose. "Star and Zahra are with 9's escort."

"Tanith Rudo?" I giggle.

"Unfortunately."

I giggle again, "I heard she got a promotion to 9."

"Ugh, you can _have _her, District 12." She jokes, pretending to be anti-District 12. She quickly changes from laughing to serious, "Seriously, what's up?"

I shrug, "Not important."

"Is too." She says. I don't think it is intentional, but she seems so motherly right now- can't blame her, after all she has seven, almost eight so it must be automatic. But still; it feels different.

I sigh and tell her, "The girl tribute we have...that's my best friend. We've been best friends since we were three." I leave out the little tidbits about the months long fight we had after I won.

"I'm sorry, kiddo."

"But it's not just that..."

"What else?" She asks, pushing my hair behind my ears.

I mumble something unintelligible and she asks me to say it again. "The nightmares. They won't go away, not even when I am awake. I don't want to end up like Daddy, turning to alcohol just to temporarily numb it but that seems like the only option. Why don't _you _have nightmares?"

She thinks before answering, "Who is to say that I don't?"

"I think it is obvious. You're the only victor I have met who is still totally sane. You are also way too happy to be brought dwon my constant nightmares."

"Good. Then that means I've succeeded." She says gruffly.

"What?"

She laughs mirthlessly, "I could really use a drink right now. Sure picked one helluva time to be pregnant, eh?"

"You mean you _do _have nightmares?"

"Not often, but sometimes, yes. My experience in the arena was...less traumatic than other victors' experiences. There are some days that go by that I don't think about the arena at all."

"How do I make the nightmares go away?" I ask her like a child.

"Well...you have to kind of re-wire your brain to not be afraid of them."

"How?"

"What is a nightmare but a dream? They are bad dreams, mind you, but they are dreams. You can choose to keep fearing them, or you can wake up after you have one and say, 'Okay. That was scary as heck but there is no reason to live in fear,' and go back to sleep."

My jaw drops, "That is all it took for you?"

"Yes, but remember, I wasn't as traumatized as most victors. I killed one person directly and tricked the Career boy who was in the final two with me." Raewyn explains, flashing me a smile.

"How'd you do that?"

"Another time, kiddo."

"What did you mean by, 'good. Then that means I've succeeded?'" I ask curiously.

She sighs, "I meant- I meant that I have succeeded in hiding it behind a clever little mask. Don't get me wrong, I _am _a mostly happy and mostly optimistic person, but half the reason I appear that way is because I hide everything unpleasant behind lies and smiles. It is the only way I can think of to move on with my life after the arena, the unhappy marriage, the divorce- without turning to controlling substances, that is.

"How's that clever little mask of yours workin' our for ya?"

She shrugs and places her hands on her stomach, "It could be better, but it could also be worse. There's more than just the nightmares bothering you. What's Snow doing to you?" _Hm, nice abrupt subject change. _I don't answer for a moment. "Ever, for real. What's Snow doing to you?"

_What! No way could anybody have told her! _"Huh? I don't know what you're t-"

She gives me a stern look. "Come on. Snow always likes to torture the newest victor until next year brings him another. Either that, or he does something that changes their future...like a forced marriage or- so what?"

"He just...the Capitol won't leave me alone." I half-lie.

She scoffs, "I know what _that's _like. Good luck with that, kiddo. But hey, at least you only have to deal with it for a little bit, right?" I want to break down and tell her, but I don't. Three people know and that is way too many already.

"Yeah...right. Whoa, the Capitol forced you to marry-"

"It's no big deal, okay?" She says. I can tell she doesn't want to discuss it further, so I leave it alone. "How well do you think your pair will score?"

"The boy is an easy seven or eight. The girl? A one."

She bites her lip, "I'm sorry about your friend. But it isn't hopeless."

"It is oh-k-"

"Mentors, escorts, stylists and victor guests! Your attention, please!" Head Gamemaker Seneca Crane booms. "We have the training scores ready on the big screen in the dining hall. Please turn your attention there."

D1- 11, 11

D2- 10, 6

D3- 4, 1

D4- 10, 8

D5- 9, 9

D6- 5, 6

D7- 7, 7

D8- 5, 8

D9- 10, 11

"What!" Raewyn all but screams. "_What!_" She is happy, but undoubtedly shocked. "I had them pegged as both 7s! 8s at the most."

D10- 8, 3

D11- 2, 2

D12- 7, 9

This time, it is my turn. "What! _What!_"

_Ivy, what in the world did you show them._

Raewyn playfully punches my shoulder and grins. "I _told _you it wasn't hopeless!"

I smile before slowly turning to face her. "Raewyn?"

"Yeah, sweetie?"

"What's the reason for your divorce?"

She smiles, a real smile this time. "Uh, I was having feelings for somebody not-my-husband and decided I had no business being married if I loved someone else."

"Who?" I ask stupidly.

"_You _should be the blonde, sweetie." She laughs. I notice her eyes unintentionally dart toward where my father is talking to Chaff. _They seem to be in an intense conversation._

"Whoa, really?" She smiles [again, it is genuine]. "So...it isn't just a duration-of-the-Games thing?"

"Of course not. I'm not a hoe who sleeps with random men- my goodness that sounded really inappropriate considering- well never mind. Point is, no, it's not."

"Good. Because I like you."

"Meh. You're okay." We stare at each other for about two seconds before bursting into hysterical laughter at something that not even we know why it is so funny.


	41. Eye Of The Tiger

**Now we find out what Chaff and Haymitch were talking about among other things!**

**Also, I kind of picture D11 people with very Southern accents and vernacular. Jus' sayin'.**

**Haha I'm reading Huckelberry Finn right no, so sorry! I HAD to do it!**

**Interviews and night before the Games next chapter! YAY!**

**Games are in two chapters! :D**

* * *

**Eye Of The Tiger**

* * *

_It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight  
Risin' up to the challenge of our rival  
-"Eye OF The Tiger"_

* * *

[While Ever and Raewyn are having their little bonding moment]

_Haymitch..__._

I stand there and wait for the tribute's training scores to come up and am completely surprised when I feel somebody grab my hand and pull me aside. I know it isn't Raewyn, her hand are smaller and gentler. "Chaff what the fudge! I don't swing that way!"

He rolls his eyes. "Nup, I _need _yer _help_."

"What is it?"

"How d'you do it?" He asks, letting go of my hand.

"Do...what?" I ask, confused.

He nods his head in Ever's direction _Hm, Raewyn's there too. They seem to be having a serious discussion...better not be about me. _"Ever. She's such a good behavin' kid. You dun even gotta worry 'bout 'er and kin trust 'er!"

"What's this about?" I ask slowly.

"Miranda." He mumbles.

"My Good Daughter? What'd she do?" It is an ongoing joke between Chaff's family and Ever and I. Miranda is my Good Daughter and Ever is Chaff's Good Daughter. Since he is the only one with a son, we just call Kieran 'oh, _that _kid.'

"She's sleepin' 'round an awful lot. She's too young fer sex- do girls their age even know what kin happen?"

"This just got very awkward. Why don't you try talking to her about it?"

He shakes his head. "I' tried t' once. She was accusin' me of assumin' things that sh' says just ain't true and had a hormonal freak-out. I wasn't even the one that gave her _the talk. _I made Seeder do it."

I stifle a laugh. "Sorry, but I can actually imagine Seeder trying to talk about- ew."

He laughs a little bit before becoming serious again. "Really. This is a job for their mothers...not fathers. Seriously, though. How d'you keep Ever that good lil' v-word girl?" I bite my lip. _V-word. Not anymore. You can blame the Capitol for that. _"You been bitin' yer lip. That is a nervous habit you n' the little girly share."

"Observant for someone who can't sue proper English." I joke.

"Says you. A lotta 12 people be talkin' wors'n I do. Remember yerself pre-Cap'tl?"

"Don't remind me." I say, hoping he forgot about the lip-biting.

"Now come on. Whatsa troublin' ya?"

"Ever."

He furrows his brow. "What abou' her? Caint be no worse than sleepin' with boys she's only known for a week."

"It can." I say slowly, looking off into some unknown direction.

His eyes widen, "What's it? Is it Snow? What's Snow doin' t' hurt my Good Daughter?" I look around as if someone will overhear us. "That bad, Haymitch?"

"Snow's making her...gawd I don't know if it is safe to tell you."

"Who all knows?"

"Finnick, Seeder and mys-"

"If Seeder knows, you mights well tell me." He shrugs. He sits down so he closer to my level. Softie's, I wish my friends wasn't so freakishly tall.

"Snow is making Ever...the same thing he made Finnick-"

Chaff grabs me by the shoulders, uses _proper _English and shakes me, "That's not even funny, man! There's just no way that would happen to her!"

When he stops shaking me I say, "No. I'm sorry...I just found out this morning."

"And you're _okay _with it?" He shoots back angrily.

"No! Why would you think I'd be okay with men old enough to be her father- ew!"

"Then do something about it!"

I smack my forehead. "I can't. I'm not supposed to know. I wasn't supposed to have told you."

He places a hand on my shoulder. "Look, I'm sorry. I promise I'll keep it secret. No telling anybody."

"You swear on your life?"

"I swear on my life."

"Pinky promise."

"Seriously?"

"District 12 tradition is if someone breaks a pinky promise the other person breaks their pinky. Now see why I'm making you do it?"

Reluctantly, he agrees. "Youse don' really do that in 12, do ya?"

I grin evilly, "Ever got kicked out of school for a week when she was in Kindergarten for breaking Forest Edmund's pinky. He didn't keep his promise about letting her use his crayons."

"Oh hell."

* * *

_Ever..._

_How did Ivy manage a 9! _As soon as she leaves the gym I run up to her. He face is pale with surprise before I even get to her. "What was that! A _9_?"

"Wh-wh-why? Is that b-bad?"

"No! No, that is amazing! But how?"

"I-I-I don't know! I can tell you what I d-"

"_Tell me_." I hiss.

She explains in a whisper. "I tried throwing around some of those pointy star things. I did okay, but the Gamemakers were ignoring me. _So _I climbed some rope and hid somewhere up there behind all of the stuff on the roof. I threw some stars all over the place from where I hid...but the Gamemakers couldn't _find _me!

I am grinning from ear to ear. Ivy got a 9. Impressive. Ant got a 7. Almost as impressive.

Between the two of them, we can rise to the challenge of even the Career districts. Sure, the odds are still stacked against them, but they can do it.

District 12 might have a chance _yet_!

* * *

_Kenton..._

"The fence is on today." I mutter to Gale.

He rolls his eyes. "So? We just wiggle through the hole in the fence. Or are you _afraid_?"

"Psh. No."

"Oh? Katniss isn't afraid."

I resist the urge to punch him. He knows I hate Katniss Everdeen, his best friend. Well, not hate- more like am extremely annoyed at always being compared to her. Gale is my occasional hunting partner but that's about it. We used to be very close friends, but then after his father died in the mines he's kind of been closed off.

"So you goin' through the fence?"

"If it'll shut you the hell up."

"Ooh Kenton swore!" He all but shouts.

"Hush!" I completely yell. At least one Peacekeeper must have heard us. I swear again, under my breath this time. We slip through the fence before anything else is said.

"How d'you think your _girlfriend _is holding up?" Gale asks with a smirk once we are far enough into the woods.

"I don't have a girlfriend." I say defensively.

"Not _yet_. You have to ask Ever out eventually. Or else some Capitol boy might snatch her up."

"Shut up, Gale! I don't think about her like that!"

"False. You so do! You should see the way you get when someone mentions her!"

"Gale, stop before I shove my foot up your ass."

"Ooh so scared." He shrugs. "I don't see why you would even bother."

"Why's that?"

"She grew up in Victor's Village. Money. Food. Now she is a victor. More money. More food. What would she want in a Seam boy?"

_Oh crap. Gale makes sense. _"You're right. Good thing I don't think of her like that." _Great. I can't believe Gale _actually _made _sense_. Great, I spent a whole year wasting wishes on her..._

_But wait._

_We are best friends- Ever and I, I mean. She'd have dropped me a long time ago is she didn't want anything to do with me._

Right?

_That settles it. When she gets back form the Capitol, I'm _not _going to chicken out. I'm going to man up...and just tell her how I feel._

Simple...right?


	42. Stronger Woman

**Okay I lied.**

**NEXT chapter is the interviews. I've been planning this Ever moment FOREVER now!**

* * *

**Stronger Woman**

* * *

_Well from now on I'm going to be_  
_The kind of woman I'd want my daughter to be,_

_I'm gonna love myself more than anyone else  
Believe in me, even if someone can't see  
The stronger woman in me_

_I'm going to be my own best friend  
Stick with me till the end  
Won't lose myself again, never, no,  
'Cause there's a stronger woman,  
A stronger woman in me_

_-Jewel, "Stronger Woman"_

_(LISTEN TO THE SONG!)_

_[It is BEYOND amazing]_

* * *

_Ever..__._

After celebrating Ivy's amazing training score, Ant and Ivy are whisked away by their prep teams to prepare for their interviews. As I am not a tribute this year, I am allowed to wander off and be free for a little while longer. I take a leisurely stroll through the Capitol and stop at a little coffee place. Even though I hate coffee with a burning passion, I still like the smell of it it...besides, they sell hot chocolate here, too. I order a medium cup on hot chocolate with whip cream and chocolate shavings on top and a blueberry muffin- the same thing I get every time I come here. I didn't get one of these last year when I was in the Capitol last year because I was a tribute and hot chocolate opportunities were scarce but now that I won, well, hot chocolate whenever!

The coffee place is very normal, and that is saying a lot considering how insane the Capitol is. Most of the people that come here have very minor- if any- things done to their bodies to Capitolize themselves. The girl standing behind me in line has bleached blonde hair which she must have only done so she can put in all of those blue, purple and hot pink streaks in. I once asked Daddy if I could bleach just one strip in my bangs. His answer? "Hell no."

Even the coffee place's interior has a warmer, more welcoming feel than the rest of the Capitol. There are a few little table, but most of the seating is intended to be on little brown couches with tangerine pillows.

No, seriously.

They are not simply the _color _of tangerines, they are made to _look _like tangerines.

I suppose the tangerine pillows are a little over-the-top, but to me, they have always symbolized the little twinge of quirkiness that is in everyone. Or, to be less philosophical, were meant to go along with the coffee place's name: The Sparkly Tangerine. It's the Capitol, what did you expect it's name to be, Coffee Mountain?

Nope, The Sparkly Tangerine.

The odd name aside, this place is amazing. It is peaceful, quiet and better yet, nobody here can bother me here. Although, I think the best thing is the music they play here. They have music from back before the Dark Days- they even have certain times where people sing and show off their talent. I would never do that, though. I'd never sing for any Capitol resident again.

But that doesn't mean I can't sing along to whatever is playing now, especially when I happens to be my favorite song- "Don't Know Why" by Norah Jones; one of my favorite singers. Why were all the good ones alive back then?

_I waited 'til I saw the sun_  
_I don't know why I didn't come_  
_I left you by the house of fun_  
_I don't know why I didn't come_  
_I don't know why I didn't come_

_When I saw the break of day  
I wished that I could fly away  
Instead of kneeling in the sand  
Catching teardrops in my hand_

_My heart is drenched in wine  
But you'll be on my mind  
For-_

"Ever." Says a voice, happy to see me. I lift my head up to see who called my name. I grit my teeth as I recognize Aeneas Manson, son of District 2 Victor Brutus Manson.

"Get lost, Aeneas." I snap.

He takes my open desire to be rid of him and an invitation, so he slides next to me on the couch I am sitting on. "I missed you, hun."

I stuff the blueberry muffin into his mouth. "Shut up, go away, leave me alone and die."

"Brr. Come on baby, don't be like that."

"Aeneas, I'm not your girlfriend, now leave me alone."

"But you will be."

"I've been turning you down since we were like, 8. What makes you think I am going to say 'yes' _now_?"

"Because you can't resist my manly charm and devilish good looks."

"_Wow_." I say, my voice oozing with sarcasm.

"So what do you say, one kiss?"

_My gawsh. _"No, what's wrong with you?"

"Driven mad by l-"

"If i give you fifty bucks will you go away?"

He shakes his head. "Dad gives me money whenever I ask. I don't need yours, Ever."

"Fine. I'll be happier if you leave me alone for free, anyway."

He chuckles and slowly wraps and arm around my waist. I didn't struggle for a few seconds because I was too pissed off to move. "Oh! You didn't resist- you dig me, you totally d-"

I jump up and punch him in the jaw, unfortunately not knocking out any of his teeth. "Don't _touch _me!" I turn on my heel, hot chocolate in hand, prepared to leave The Sparkly Tangerine.

"Why not? From what I hear, you _like _men touching you."

I freeze and almost drop the hot chocolate. Almost. I turn right back on my heel and angrily stomp over to him. "Where did you hear crap like that?"

He smirks. "Oh, don't worry. That isn't gossip amongst all the victors. Which ever few you told are the only ones that _you _know that know the 'big secret.' But let's just say my father and the other Career mentors from 1 and 2 are privvy to certain tidbits information."

I bite my lip. "Please Aeneas, don't-"

He smiles warmly and grabs my hand. "I'd never tell your secret."

I push his hand away and he tries to grab it again. Suddenly, an even better idea than just pushing him away runs through my head. I let him take my hand while I take his. I lean closer to him, making him think I am going to kiss him. He is in for a rude awakening; I reach behind me with my left hand and grab my hot chocolate. My arm kind of fiddle around aimlessly until it find a way to reach up above his head- he is rather tall. The cup of hot chocolate is standing straight up and without warning, _whoosh! _I tilt the cup and it spills all over his golden hair, down his neck and permanently ruins his white shirt. _Click flash, click, flash, click, click flash, click, flash, flash ,click- _cameras are going off everywhere. I grin and decide to give the the Capitol photographers more of a show by kicking him between the legs and kneeing him in the gut.

"That'll teach you to hit on a girl who is _so _not interested!"

"You f*****g whore!" He seethes.

I grin, pick up my purse and triumphantly flounce away. On my way out, I hand fifty dollars to the nearest employee. "Give this to whoever has to clean up my little mess, okay?"

I feel terrible about acting all high-and-mighty to the employee (a girl no older than 15) but Aeneas totally deserved it. I was always wondering when he would finally stop just _asking _me and do something about it. Guess I don't have to anymore.

My little tiff with Aeneas will not go unnoticed to the Capitol and the other victors. It will certainly be the cover story of every single one of the gossip magazines, and since the Capitol newspaper never reports anything important it will be on the front page of the paper.

I can see it now:

**GOOD GIRL VICTOR GOES DIVA**

Great.

Let's just hope Daddy doesn't see it in any of the news stands.

Or Raewyn.

Or Chaff.

Seeder...

Finnick...

Mags...

Beetee...

Kieran...

Miranda...

Cinna...

Oh.

I am royally f- screwed.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

After Ever had gone off to do whatever it is she can find to do in the Capitol I decided to get just half a glass of vodka and I poured sugar and tea into it to minimize the taste. I'm not sure if it minimizes the alcohol level or not, but oh well.

I start to head up to the roof to escape until the tribute interviews and almost get to the elevator when I hear

"Starlyn Marie, Zahra-Rose Anderson get back here!" I recognize Raewyn's voice. _I guess Isis got tired of the girls. Don't know why, I mean, they are adorable!_

"Get back here with my brush!" Starlyn shouts at Zahra. Raewyn is trying to chase after them, though she shouldn't, being pregnant and all.

"I'll get them." I offer, not waiting for her to accept the offer. I pour the vodka onto the nearest plant and toss the glass into the one beside it to chase after the kids. Within ten seconds or starting after then, I successfully snatch them up. They scream until they notice it's just Haymitch, then they start laughing. "Get 'em." I announce, bringing them back to Raewyn.

"Thanks so much- hey! Don't hit you sister!" Raewyn says crossly to Starlyn who just slapped Zahra.

"Mommy she took my hairbrush!" The little blonde haired blue eyes girl argues.

"You still don't _hit _her!"

Star just rolls her eyes.

I raise my hand and move it to Raewyn's face to push the hair out of her eyes, but she flinches away before I can even touch her.

"Whoa, I wasn't going to do anything but move your hair out of your eyes."

"Oh...right. Scared me, that's all." She mumbles

"Nuh uh, it's cuz Daddy hit you all the time, isn't it?" Zahra asks.

Raewyn and I both gasp. "What?" I ask furiously. It is time to strangle William.

She holds up her hands, "It's not as bad as it s-"

"Like hell it isn't! You shouldn't hit women, especially not your freaking wife!" I hiss. "It's abuse."

"Not in District 9- well, I think it is, but abuse isn't an issue there. Women are thought of and treated like property- like District 10s livestock. If we do something wrong we will get slapped by our fathers, brothers or husbands and nobody can say anything unless they leave a noticeable bruise- like on your face. And if they did that, they'd just make you stay at home until it is all better. It's never anything too bad like breaking someone bones or stabbin' them...just a little slap."

"It's still wrong!" I exclaim.

She takes her finger and presses it to my lips. "Shh, I know but it happens there, okay?"

I gently grab her hand and move it from my lips. Placing my hand between both of mine I whisper, "I love you, you know I'd never do that, right?"

She smiles, "I know." She leans up to kiss me and I return it.

"Ewe, Mommy's kissin' 'Aymitch!" Zahra sequels.

"Shut uh, Zahra, it's cute! Kiss her again!" Star says.

"A-hem."

Raewyn and I break the kiss only to face Tanith Rudo and Effie Trinket. "So...how's it goin'?" Raewyn says in an effort to make a joke.

"The tributes will be ready in five minutes." Tanith says to Raewyn. Effie nods in agreement.

I see a small-ish figure storm past us and realize it is Ever.

"Ever sweetheart, what's wrong?" I ask at the same time Raewyn asks, "What's up, sweetie?"

"Teenage boys! That's what's wrong! Why can't we just load them all up on a spaceship and send them to the sun?" She screams before hastily adding, "Except Kenton. He's actually decent."

_Yeah, okay. I'm _so sure _that is the only reason._

Oh well. I knew I couldn't stop her growing up and becoming a beautiful young woman. I just wish she could have stayed a little gril for a while longer.

Just a little while.

* * *

**Random Quote:**

**Me+ Rachel: Put a shirt on, ya hoe!**


	43. Interview With A Vampire

**Yay! Interviews and final night!**

* * *

**Interview With A Vampire**

* * *

_"How pathetic it is to describe these things which can't truly be described."  
— Anne Rice (Interview With the Vampire)  
_

* * *

_Ever..__._

Ivy is sitting beside me on a couch backstage, waiting for her interview. She is shaking like a leaf, arms wrapped tightly around herself as if needs to hold herself in or else explode. I am able to pry one arm from her so I can place my left hand on her right. I give her hand a reassuring squeeze. "You know what I use to do when I was little?"

"W-what?"

"I would pretend that the people that lived in the Capitol were vampires."

Ivy's eyes brighten up and she giggles. "Why would you think that?"

"Have you ever read Twilight? The _most annoying _vampire books of all time?" She nodded slowly, she's the one that made me read them. Not to mention we saw the movies when we were like, six. Kristen Stewart could not act. "Well, think about it. The Cullens are sparkly, just like the people in the Capitol."

Ivy laughs, "Good one."

"It was fun to pretend," I continue. "There was never much that held my interest here so using my imagination made everything much more fun. Even talking to the escorts was fun if you were talking to a vampire."

"So...you want me to picture Caesar as a vampire?"

I flash her a toothy grin, "Exactly."

I then turn my attention to the screens they have backstage and lazily watch the interviews go by. Finally, the dark-skinned dark-haired lover boy from 11's time ends and it is Ivy's turn. She walks out onto the stage, takes one look at the crowd and starts to sway like she is going to faint. Caesar seems to notice this too and tries to make her feel comfortable. "Have a seat Ms...Ivy Hopeflame, is it?"

"Y-yes." She stutters, sitting down across from Caesar.

"So Ivy, how do you like the Capitol so far?"

"It is...big." The audience demonstrates their amazing ability to turn anything a tribute says into a joke by roaring in laughter. Ivy visibly loosens up, figuring that laughter is good.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. Really, really big. And pretty and clean compared to District 12."

"Where do you come from in District 12?"

"I am from the Seam."

"Another Seam kid?" Ivy nods. "Do you have any brothers or sisters? Hopeflame sounds familiar."

"Two of my siblings were tributes." She says soberly, earning a series of 'aww's from the audience. _Perfect. _

"Poor Ivy!" Caesar cried dramatically, earning more sympathetic noises from the audience. "How prepared do you think you are for the Games?"

"Oh, pretty prepared as far as advice goes."

"Oh, right! District 12 now has _two _very capable mentors!" The whole audience cheers then Caesar hushes them, "So how is it working with a father/daughter set of mentors? Do they argue a lot like District 1s sets of brother and sister and cousins?"

"It is pretty enjoyable. No, no fighting."

Caesar chuckles, "That is the image the two of them kind of gave off last year. They must be well-known around district 12, do you think they argue at home?"

"Actually, as far as victors go, they are very private. Nice people, but private. Although, I _do _know about any possible arguments."

"Do tell!"

"Nah, probably shouldn't."

"Are the fights bad?" The audience 'o-o-o-ooooh's and Daddy and I are just laughing backstage.

Ivy giggles, "Oh, not at all. Haymitch is really cool and only yells at Ever if she does or says something really stupid or inappropriate...like this 'that's what she said' joke she made at dinner one night. I think she was like, 11."

"How do you know that?" He asks and I fear _he _is about to faint instead of Ivy.

She smiles into the cameras before turning back to Caesar. "Easy, I was there because I was sleeping over. Ever has been my best friend since we were three." Sympathetic and excited sounds is what the audience has in reply.

"You don't say!" Caesar exclaims.

"Er, I'm pretty sure I do say." Audience giggles some at that joke. _Good, good._

"So how close would you say you and Ever Abernathy are, exactly?"

"Ah, I said we are best friends, so we are as close as close can get. There was this one summer when I practically lived in Victor's Village with them!"

Caesar takes this opportunity to pry. "Any specific reason?"

Ivy bites her inner cheek and tilts her head to think of a reason. "Not that I can think of. We just never got sick of having each other around and it was always past the District curfew by the time we were tired of goofing off together so Haymitch just let me stay over. I even have a key to their house. Ever doesn't need a key to mine in the Seam.

"Why not?"

"Because the door to our house is so flimsy we don't even use it so we just leave the one window wide open 24/7."

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"Yes, it is. But you see, the window is stuck open. My daddy cain't even shut it up." Ivy explains. More sympathy from the audience.

"Now how about that training score of yours? A 9? How did you manage that?"

Ivy leans in close to him like she is telling a secret. "I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you." Roaring laughter is what the audience has to offer in response. The bell rings and Ivy blows the crowd kisses before standing and leaving the stage.

It is Ant's turn and his interview makes a much smaller splash than Ivy's, though I am sure he earned some sponsors from this exchange:

"So...Anon-"

"Ant." Ant corrects."

"So, Ant do you have a girl at home?"

"No. I broke up with her before I left for the Capitol."

"Why?"

"I didn't want her to watch me die."

I know for a fact that the bit about Ant having a girl is a total lie because he is sort of afraid of women. I am the only girl besides his mother and three year old sister that he can talk to without freaking out or getting really sweaty.

But hey.

If it help him live, it is fine by me.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

"I'm going to go down to the dinning hall before the rest of the crowd gets there." Ever whispers to me.

"Okay, sweetheart. I think Finnick and Raewyn are already there, too."

"Good, then I'll chill with them 'till you, Ant and Ivy get there for dinner." She says with a fake smile, hurrying off. _Poor kid. she knows her friends will die._

"Ever, wait!" I call after her. She turns around with a 'what?' expression on her face. I really had nothing else that I planned to say- I assumed she would just pretend not to hear me and keep running off. So I say the first thing that comes to mind. "I love you, sweetheart."

She half-smiles and walks towards me so she can give me a hug. "I love you too Daddy."

Leave it to Effie to ruin the one emotional moment Ever and I have. "Hurry, hurry! Dining hall with all of you!"

When Ever and I get there we see Finnick, Chaff and Raewyn sitting with each other. Zahra is resting on Raewyn's shoulder. I wish I had a camera, she is absolutely adorable.

_Haymitch stop it with the baby cravings!_

Ever starts a conversation with Raewyn. "Any idea what you'll name the baby?"

"Hm, I'm hoping a girl so I can name her something from Pride and Prejudice or another classic novel."

Ever nearly chokes on her water. "You like Pride and Prejudice?"

"Well yeah, who doesn't love Mr. Darcy?"

"Who?" I ask.

"Men." Ever and Raewyn say in unison. "Have you seen the movie?" Raewyn asks Ever.

Ever shakes her head. "Never."

Raewyn gasps and repeatedly pats the table. "I have it with me. You are watching it before you leave the Capitol!"

I smile at the two of them, glad that they get along. _Raewyn is so kind to Ever. She's perfect..._

"I'll have to! Maybe tonight?"

Raewyn smiles, "After the tributes go to bed we will- and Haymitch, you're not getting out of this one. Neither are you two!" She points to Finnick and Chaff.

"Do we have to!" They complain.

"Is it a chick flick?" I whine.

"Yes, a total chick flick. That is why we need you guys there because we will cry and we need heartless, unfeeling male specimens scuh as you three." Then she smiles sweetly so we can't refuse.

"Fine." We grumble.

_Ugh. I hate chick flicks. Damn you Raewyn!_

* * *

OKAY my mom is kickign me off so I will finish this part tomorrow in the next chapter and start the Games! :)

**Random Quote:**

**Me: *pushes old small grill to the street for free trash pickup day, grill slips, lands on knee* **

**Grandmother: Be careful, McKala!**

**Me: Forget this! *picks up small grill and throw it into the woods* Let the squirrels have barbecue tonight!**


	44. Sense and Sensibility

**They enter the arena, yay! Oh, and sorry for the sort of cliffhanger :P**

* * *

**Sense and Sensibility **

* * *

_Death ... a melancholy and shocking extremity._

_-Jane Austen; Sense and Sensibility_

* * *

_Haymitch..._

"That's stupid!" I argue. Not even twenty minutes in and I am already complaining.

"Well back then that was _how _they did things!" Raewyn shoots back.

"Making someone fall in love with you daughter by making sure she gets sick and has to stay the night is still stupid!"

"Oh but it's so cute! Mr. Bingley enjoys it."

"Still stupid." I mutter under my breath, letting her believe she won.

Finnick has obviously seen this movie more than once, because he and Raewyn are having a quote battle. Ever is oblivious and her eyes are glued to the television in District 12's common area. Chaff and I are sitting on opposite sides of the room, lazily throwing popcorn at each other and trying not to die of boredom.

Mr. Darcy is really getting on my nerves but I have to admit, Elizabeth Bennett is growing on me. The partiality is probably due to the fact that 'Elizabeth' is my daughter's middle name but it could have something to do with the character's intelligence, cleverness and her conversation skills. Speaking as I used to as a teenager- "Elizabeth Bennett pwned Mr. Darcy." Though, another reason might be that Kiera Knightly is absolutely gorgeous- don't tell Raewyn I think that.

At least fifteen times throughout the movie Raewyn and Ever have slapped Chaff or I for making fun of the way the characters speak.

About an hour and fifteen minutes into the movie, it got good. It was the scene in the church where Elizabeth was speaking to the one man about Mr. Darcy and she runs out in the rain to confront him about her sister. During the part where she reads the letter Mr. Darcy wrote to her, I stop the Abernathy-Baakari popcorn war and actually pay attention. Raewyn leans her head against my shoulder and I can smell her shampoo. Strawberries. I like strawberries. Now I sound like a lovesick teenager; not that I mind.

By the end of the movie Ever and Raewyn are having a chick flick moment and Finnick and Chaff are 'awww'ing. I, of course couldn't care less. I just kept sniffing Raewyn's hair.

* * *

_Ever..._

I'm going to kill her, my father's girlfriend or not. It is the morning after watching Pride and Prejudice and I still can't focus because I am preoccupied with Mr. Darcy's gorgeous face and amazingness.

I wake up early, as I am sure Ant and Ivy have and head down to the dining hall where they are surely eating breakfast with the other tributes. No mentors, no stylists, no escorts. The morning of, they eat then enter the arena to die. Before I left my room, however, I grabbed the old friendship bracelet Ivy made me when we were seven. It still fits on my wrist- I just have to wrestle it on there. I am going to give it back to Ivy as her token.

Ivy is sitting at a table with the pair from District 11, the ones who scored 2s in training whereas Ant is nowhere to be found. "May I have a word alone with my tribute?" I ask them.

"Of course." They mumble in unison.

I nod in thanks before walking off to a corner with Ivy. She puts on a brave face until I open my mouth. "Ivy-" With that, she bursts into tears, pulls me into a hug and says, "I don't want to die, Ever! I can't! Who is going to help Josh and Mother and Dad? Or- if I die, who will tell them that you are not a bad person after all? Who will you have sleepovers with?"

"Kenton is hardly a bad sleepover buddy. We can paint each other's nails and he can do my hair." I joke. Ivy and I giggle like little girls until the laughter gets old and we cry sad tears again. Ivy will die in the arena, that's a given, but...why?

Ivy grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. "Y-you have to get my lots of sponsors."

"I've already worked it out." I say. _Prostitution serves it's purposes, at least._

"However did you get the funds?"

"I have my means." I say mysteriously.

"Tell, tell!"

"Okay, _Caesar_."

Ivy gasps, "Take it back! Now seriously tell me how."

"Well you will just have to win, then. I'll tell you when you win."

She folds her arms across her chest. "That isn't fair."

"Yes it is. My meas are privileged information." _Not like I'd ever tell her anything about _it_._

A Gamemakers comes into the dining hall to take the tributes into the arena. He literally rips Ivy away from our conversation and pulls her to where the tributes go next. I am sure where they will take her, it is different each year. Ivy turn to look at me before walking through the double doors. She presses the three middle finger on her left hand and extends them out to me. I return the rare District 12 gesture.

My eyes unconsciously dart to my non-dominant hand, my right, and find the pink and purple circle of thread in it. "Wait! Sir, hold the doors!" I shout at an Avox. He is taken aback my being addressed so formally but I pay no mind to it. "Ivy! Ivy, you remember this?" I ask breathlessly, trying to regain my breath.

"Y-yes." She says, holding back more tears.

"Do you have a token?" I ask her. She shakes her head quickly. "Take it."

"But it is yours."

"Yes, and you do not have yours to take with you, so I want you to take mine. Promise you will?" I place it in her right hand and press her fingers down to close over her palm.

"I promise. Goodbye, Ev."

"Goobye. I hate that word. It is so...final. See you soon, Ives." I wave see-you-soon to her even after the double doors have closed.

"There you are! I have been searching for you. Come on, it is a big, big, big day!" I groan and follow Effie to where the victors are all gathered to observe the Games. The whole thought of _watching _23 children die this year makes me sick. As soon as Effie and I arrive in the control room I beeline for Daddy who, of course, has Raewyn on his other side. Finnick sits down next to me and Chaff and Seeder sit down in front of us.

I suppose it is obvious that I have just said farewell to Ivy because Daddy takes one look at my eyes and pulls me closer to him so I can lean my head on his shoulder. He kisses my cheek and lies to me about how everything is going to be okay.

_Ladies and Gentleman! Let the 73rd Annual Hunger Games..._begin_! _Shouts Claudius Templesmith's voice. It sounds so surreal and I start to have flashbacks of last year's Games...my Games. I grab Finnick's hand with both of mine and squeeze it. He moves closer to me and just stays still.

Then I see it, the first tribute to die. She is young, about my age but smaller than I. The boy from 4 dealt the killing blow, and the Careers proceeded to dismember her body. The rest of the tributes hurry away form the Career pack, consequently not receiving their supplies.

The girl from 1 lifts her decapitated head up on the end of her sword.

I scream, run to the nearest rash can, and throw up the contents of my stomach. I begin to cry.

_Why do kids like her have to die?_

* * *

0_O Who DiEd? Was it IvY? Or some RaNdOm TrIbUtE that is Ever's age?

Hm...depends on your responses, I suppose I will have to decide later ;)

**Random Quote:**

**Me: I'm going to to watch Twilight now.**

**My sister: The movie?**

**Me: No, the book. Here's your sign!**


	45. The Tribute Was

Warning! There is a short rant at the end of this chapter. Please skip to the review button once you reach the bottom if you do not want to hear it...and whoever is reading this fic, logged in, anonymous or whatever, please review this chapter.

I am just curious and want to see how many people read it, even if the review is just a smiley face {:)} or your thoughts on a character like, "Haymitch is awesome!" Or, "Ugh, I hate Ever, I hope she dies."

Yes, my sister read this fic and she told me she hope Ever dies. And it didn't bug me at all, so...yeah.

Please don't take this as begging for reviews because I am not. I just want to see how many different people are reading this because I'm curious then after that you can choose weather or not to keep reviewing. I appreciate reviews but I can manage :]

* * *

**The Tribute Was...**

* * *

_Haymitch..._

Ever runs to a trash can to throw up and I hold her hair like I always do at home. I rub her back until she spits what's left out of her mouth. "Please tell me those Careers didn't just-"

"Ask no questions hear no lies." I mumble.

She throws up a little more then lifts her head. "Do you have any gum?"

"I do." Finnick says, reaching into his pocket. "Mint of cinnamon?"

"Cinnamon." Ever says, keeping her face pointed down in case she gets sick again. After realizing she must have gotten it all out of her system, she unwraps the piece of gum and chews it. "Thanks Finnick."

"No problem kid."

Ever buries her head into my shoulder and begs me not to make her watch anymore. "I'm sorry sweetheart. You have to."

"But Daddy, that girl from 3 wasn't even even doing anything! They just- and then they played with the pieces. Where's the humanity in that!"

"There _is _none." Says a somewhat familiar voice. We all look up to see Brutus standing there with a Capitol newspaper and a few gossip magazines in his hands. He is looking down at Ever, glaring daggers at her.

"Leave her alone Brutus." Finnick orders, shotting up out of his seat.

Brutus steps forward until his face is inches from Finnick's. I am expecting them to start making out but instead he just glares at him before turning his focus back to Ever. "A little child who throws up at the sight of the Games doesn't deserve to be a victor. Much less deserves to be _alive_." I hold onto Ever just so I won't jump up and kill Brutus right in front of her. Brutus sees how pissed I am, but he doesn't stop there. He moves over and stand right behind Raewyn. He lowers his mouth to her ear and whispers, "And _you. _You're the little bitch form District 9 who likes to get slapped around, eh? I've seen the male mentor from 9 do it. You don't say anything, do you pregnant girl? What if I-" He slaps her across the face. She falls forward but stops herself before she actually hits the ground.

"Oh!" She exclaims out of shock. Otherwise unphased, she stands up and punches him in the face, breaking his nose and making hi mdrop the stack of magazines and newspaper he was holding. "And stay away!" She shouts as he hurries off. She bends down as far as she can next to Ever. "Are you okay, sweetie? Do you need something to drink...or peanut butter?"

Ever giggles, "Peanut butter?"

"I crave peanut butter when I'm pregnant and I was going to go get some anyway. I was wondering if you wanted some, too." She laughs.

"Nah, I'm good. I just don't want to watch the Games...but I guess I have to." Ever says softly.

I give Ever another hug and tell her to just try her best to ignore it. _My poor, sweet Ever. She shouldn't have to watch this._

* * *

_Ever..._

Ha! Raewyn broke Brutus's nose!

After Daddy comforts me enough, I bend down and notice the magazines and newspaper Brutus had dropped. I gasp as I see the cover stories of them. They are all about the hot chocolate incident. Oh crap. Aeneas is Brutus's son.

I'm screwed.

I scoop up the paper and magazines and scurry to the trash can. One of the magazines falls from the stack and lands at Finnick's feet. "O-o-oh! What's _this_! Panem's Good Girl Victor Gone Diva?" I promptly drop the rest of them and Finnick picks them up one by one. "Ever Abernathy's Diva Melt-Down- oh, I like this one- Ever Demonstrates Major Girl Power...Youngest Abernathy Attacks a Boy at a Coffee Shop! Ever, what happened?"

Even Daddy and Chaff have their ears perked in curiosity. "Aeneas tried flirting with me again. So, I poured hot chocolate on his head and kicked him in the penis."

"Ever!" Daddy scolds.

"What? I could have been really _really _inappropriate and used some slang words for it, but at least I used the correct word!"

Daddy sighs, "I give up. Go ahead, say 'penis,' it could be worse."

"Yeah," Raewyn agrees. "You could always shout 'vagina' at a totally inappropriate moment. That'll get you in trouble for sure." Everyone looks at her like she is high. "I was in high school once!" Is her defense.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

The bloodbath at the Cornucopia takes only one life this time, as the Careers scared everybody off. The cannon goes off for the girl from 3. But as everybody knows, nighttime of the first day of the Games usually means another smaller bloodbath- and in this case, a larger one.

_Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!_

Five cannons go off. Boy from 3, both from 5, both from 8. Just like that.

The Careers knock off the pairs from 5 and 8 while the pair form 7 ambushed the boy from 3. Two kids with axes isn't something to sneeze at.

Unlike last year, Raewyn goes back to District 9's floor to sleep. I would probably have forced her to anyway, being in her condition and all.

"Come on, sweetheart you need to sleep in a bed tonight." I whisper in Ever's ear as I see her start to drift off.

She shakes her head, "No, no I have to stay in case something happens to Ivy."

"I'll stay." I tell her.

"I don't want to sleep by myself tonight. At least there are people here." She mumbles, eyes closed.

Finnick stands up and yawns, "I was going to sleep in a bed tonight, too. Ever can sleep with me. We'll have fun, _won't _we Ever?" She giggles and tells him yes, in fact they will. Then Finnick adds, "Don't worry Haymitch, I'll try to wait awhile before I start ripping her clothes off."

"Just be safe. Use a condom." I tell him.

Ever gasps, "How do you even know what that _is_!"

"I was a teenager once."

"Ew! Scared for life!"

* * *

_Ever..._

Finnick carries me to his room and places me on the bed. "Now. Anything you want to tell me, kid?" He inquires, finding his spot on the opposite side.

"Not that I can think of." I lie. In truth, I've been thinking of something since Daddy told Finnick and I to 'use a condom.' Most of the Capitol men...they don't use those around me. Snow gave me the birth control pill, but how am I suppose to sneak it? Yeah, sure, Daddy knows now, but what if Raewyn sees? Or Mags? Cinna? Portia? Kieran? Miranda? I would be totally dead!

"What did I tell you about lying to me? You can always be honest."

"It's nothing Finnick...I just missed feeling your warmth as you slept next to me." I giggle, joking around with him.

"O-o-oh, well in that case." He pulls me closer. "Snuggle up!" We both laugh hysterically before pulling arapt and snuggling under the covers on our respective sides.

But, of course, in the middle of the night I somehow end up right next to him like a scared child.

* * *

**Not much action, sorry. There will be in the next one! Plus, Ever will lose her first tribute next chapter...who will it be?**

**Random Quote:**

**None today, I'm too depressed. The below mini-rant explains why**

RANT:

How can people look at the earthquake and tsunami in Japan and be so insensitive! I look at videos of the disaster and burst into tears every time! How can people be all, "oh they had it coming!" when innocent men, women and children died?

I just can't take the heartless people in this world. They all deserve to be shot in the foot so it doesn't kill them but hurts like hell. They deserve to be in pain, stupid HEARTLESS people!

Sorry, that is my rant for the week.


	46. When Death Calls

WHOO! Almsot 400 reviews! Thanks soo much everybody! I love you guys...not in the creeper way of course because I am sooooo not a creeperIKnowWhereYouAllSleep :]

Teehee!

**As will be be made obvious in this chapter, (in my mind) most D9 people have Welsh or Irish names...just because I think they have epic names :)**

**Raewyn's name is Welsh**

* * *

**When Death Calls**

* * *

_When death calls - this is the hours of dying  
When death calls - the spirit of man can be freed  
When death calls - there's no tomorrow  
When death calls - just an evil shadow  
_

_-Black Sabbath "When Death Calls"_

* * *

_Ivy..._

I am hyperventilating as I run from the gruesome scene of the body of the girl from 3. I run as far as I can in the opposite direction Ant runs. I plan on heeding the advice I've given myself since the start- "Don't trust your district partner." I consider that a pretty important thing to remember, especially thinking about what happened last year with Robbie going all, homicidal 'gotta kill Ever.'

This year, the arena is a swamp, and actual swamp! The only piece of non-swampland I can see is where the Cornucopia is. The smelly, algae-infested water splashes up around me in a sickening green and black foam with every step I take in it. The water level is fluctuating between ankle-depth and knee-depth but mostly staying about an inch below my knees. I don't know what the Gamemakers were thinking this year by making the Arena a swamp. Where will the tributes sleep? What will we eat?

You can't exactly climb a bald cypress tree. The branches are too thin, many aren't close enough to the ground to start climbing and there aren't enough of them to make it all the way up the tree. I want to stop to think, but I keep running; mostly because there is nowhere _to _stop and think. At least I am not getting very wet, what with the black, skintight and waterproof diving suit all of the tributes have to wear. Even our shoes are water proof, but these 'water shoes' aren't helping much. I consider tearing off the shoes but figure that the bottom of the swamp must be even gooier barefoot than it feels now.

I must have been running for quite a while now, because small patches of muddy, sticky land keep popping up out of the swamp water. _Muddy, sticky land but still no place to rest._ I keep running since there is nothing else to do but to run. Finally, I trip over a cypress knee and face plant into the water. The taste makes me want to throw up, but I figure vomiting isn't the best thing to do right now so I swallow the water. The acidic taste of vomit mixes with the putrid swamp water and it is far from pleasant. I dig my nails into the gooey mixture of sediments and carrion at the bottom to push myself back up. As I start to rise from the water I spot something odd. There is an opening in the trunk of one of the cypress trees that is mostly underwater. Only about three inches of the opening are visible above water and that potion isn't even five inches wide. The only way to get into the tree is to dive underwater and swim into it.

This whole cypress tree situation is weird. I paid enough attention in 5th-grade science to know that cypresses should not have opening in their trunks big enough for a person to fit through. But who am I to complain? It may be disgusting, but it it shelter. That is, _if _and only if the opening is big enough for me to fit through. I gaze up at the tree and examine it before I even _think _about diving under. It looks friendly enough- as friendly as trees can get in the arena. _Abnormally large, it is the size of one of those redwood trees in our geography books._ I note. _I'm still a little wary. This tree is too big to be natural, but it is shelter. Now quit your scrutinizing and- _I take in a large gulp of air, close my eyes and dive into the water. This throws me into a state of panic. Where is the opening again? I shoot up out of the water and gasp for air. Shaking my hair like a wet dog, I quickly change the plan. Why not just move right in front of the tree, let myself slip underwater, and just feel around for a bigger opening?

And I do just that. I step up to the tree, close my eyes, take in some air, and feel around blindly for a bigger opening in the trunk. I finally find it. It is still pretty small, and someone larger than me would have to squeeze into it. But I'm not larger than me, am I? I am the perfect size to wriggle my body through the tree. Once through, I begin to have more fears. I'm through, but if only barely three inches show above the water on the other side, then how high does the opening in the trunk even go? Will I run out of air because it isn't high enough? Oh well, drowning is no gentle way to go, but hey. Why not drown instead of have another tribute knock me off? What're the chances a tribute will be any gentler anyway? At least with drowning, you know that it won't be easy. With another human being you are at least hoping it'll be quick. I take my chances with drowning and launch myself from the water and into the interior of the redwood-sized bald cypress.

As I open my eyes, I realize that the Gamemakers have set this up. There are little cavities inside the tree just big enough for a person to curl up and sleep in. _So this is where we are supposed to hide, to sleep...whoa._

It's perfect, this little hideout. The only thing I don't like? How do I know who dies?

* * *

_Ever..._

Finnick wakes me up and walks with me to the control room. We are later than most other victors, but who cares?- not me. Finnick smirks and grabs my hand as we head towards my father, "Good morning Haymitch. Sleep well?"

He turns to look at us and scowls, "Finnick, give my daughter he hand back."

"Answer my question first."

"Yes, I did. You?" Though I know he doesn't really care.

"We didn't really do much _sleeping_ in there, yenno?" Finnick raises his eyebrows suggestively which makes Daddy rolls his eyes and Chaff, Seeder and Raewyn giggle.

"Yeah, " I agree with a straight face. "We were having mad gorilla sex instead."

"Hell!" Daddy shouts, spitting out whatever he was drinking.

Finnick and I laugh and hi-five. "We're jsut kidding Daddy. Really, you should know this by now."

"Yeah, it isn't like I'd actually have sex with Ever. She's like my sister...but she's not which makes it even _more _fun to joke about sex!"

"I'll make Raewyn punch you." Daddy threatens.

"Not if I slap 'er first!"

"You wouldn't hit a pregnant woman." Chaff says matter-o'-factly.

"Oh?" Finnick raises an eyebrow and backhands Raewyn's thigh.

She turns to look at him like he is stupid. "You call that a slap? _This_-" She slaps him across the face. "Is a slap." He mutters something unintelligible, not pissed off and her or anything, but pissed off at the fact that she is pregnant and he can't do anything to retaliate. "Hm, maybe I should be pregnant every year."

Daddy looks at her funny, "Um..."

She giggles and playfully punches his shoulder. "Kidding!"

* * *

_Ivy..._

I spend the whole night in my giant cypress tree hideaway. I wake up the next morning curled up in a ball in one of the human-sized cavities. I yawn and attempt to stretch, but I end up plummeting to the murky water beneath me. I can't help but to laugh at my stupidity and I am sure that the rest of Panem is having a good laugh, too. My stomach rumbles and that ends the laughter for me.

"Food?" I ask, looking up at the sky which I assume is the general direction of the cameras. Ever got sponsor gifts in the arena last year when she did that. _Because she is Ever and she probably _had _sponsors._

Gosh, I didn't even manage to grab a backpack! No survival tools, no weapons...maybe I'm doomed to die of starvation. Or maybe- just maybe- I can win the Games by sitting here and battling out starva- _ribbit. Ribbit. Riiiiiibit._

I gasp as I listen to the frog 'ribbit. Ribbit. Riiiiiiiibit.' I lick my lips. I love frog legs. Once, several years ago, Kenton, Josh, Damien, Ever and I all ran off to the woods. They were going to go hunting, but since I hate killing things they just decided to catch and cook frogs. I never liked frogs much anyway, so that was fine by me. That was the first time I had frog legs and I remember how to cook them...if only I can catch those elusive buggers.

Before my attempts even begin, they end. I hate no pans. No wood. No matches. No lighter. No flint. No anything to start a fire to cook them over.

I sigh sadly, sit in the lowest cavity possible, and bury my face in my palms hopelessly. I refuse to cry- I won't let the Capitol win. And I don't.

So instead of looking for a meal, I climb back up into one of the cavities and stay there. It isn't long until I hear splashing and gasping for air below me. I scream, realizing someone has found my hideout. "Ach, don't kill me yet I'm not ready!" Screams the person below me. I recognize her as Erianwen Tudor, the girl from District 9 who scored an 11 in training- an amazing feat for a non-career.

"Kill you? Why would I do that?" I question, forgetting we are in the Hunger Games.

"Huh?" She looks at me warily before examining every bit of me she can find. "Where are your weapons?" She asks.

"I uh...I ran before I could get any weapons or supplies." I explain sheepishly.

Erianwen Tudor just giggles. "Well that was smart."

"Sarcasm, gotta love it." I comment.

"Oh, I was being sarcastic?" She say, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Hey, District 9 you have any allies?" I inquire.

She ponders that for a moment, as if her life hangs in the balance of her answer. "No. Cruz and Isis told me to ally with my district partner but Raewyn said my district partner is the worst person to trust and to be frank, I respect her more than the other two. Isis is younger and Cruz is a jerk."

I nod, "Ever told me not to trust my district partner, either."

"That's right, Ever is your best friend. That's tough."

I nod again. "So, what do you say District 9? Allies?"

She smiles, still standing, "Sure, it isn't like we're fighting to the death here anyway, right?" Her sarcasm might get annoying after a while, but I can see that she has a backpack and she has weapons. Useful. "And by the way Ivy, my name is Erianwen- [eyr ee AN wen] but call me Eri. It's shorter- and, to be honest, almost every District 9 female has a name ending in 'wen' or 'ryn'."

I laugh, "That can't be true."

"Oh? I'm Erianwen, one of my mentors is Raewyn, my little sisters are Cainwen and Adaren and my best friend is Seren."

"Okay maybe you _are _telling the truth." I laugh.

She changes the subject back to a serious one. "You have no backpack. So I'm guessing no weapons or food, either?" I nod, kind of ashamed. She grins, "No worries. I hit the food jackpot and I'm pretty sure I have at least _one _sponsor." She climbs up the inside of the 'tree' and joins me. She unzips her backpack, which is waterproof like the rest of our get up, and pulls out some day-old fruit. "I have jerky in here alos, but fruit goes bad quicker than anything else. We should each it first."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it." She murmurs.

And another District 9/District 12 alliance is born.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

"That's right, Ever is your best friend. That's tough." Says Raewyn's fifteen year old red-headed tribute. I can't remember her first name, but I'm pretty sure her last name is Tudor, like something I've read in a history book.

I look over at Raewyn who is breathing a sigh of relief. "Oh thank goodness. Don't worry Ever, Eri won't kill Ivy unless Ivy starts something. She is too sweet."

Ever is relieved too, "Good! I was freaking out...any idea how- Eri is it?- scored an 11?"

She shakes her head. "Absolutely no idea. Honestly? I pegged them both and 7s or 8s- the boy possibly getting a 9. Eri was a bloodbath for sure."

Ever smiles, "Guess it's a good thing you were wrong for once, eh?" We turn our attention back to the screens.

"So, what do you say District 9? Allies?" Ivy asks from above Eri Tudor's head.

She smiles, still standing, "Sure, it isn't like we're fighting to the death here anyway, right? And by the way Ivy, my name is Erianwen- but call me Eri. It's shorter- and, to be honest, almost every District 9 female has a name ending in 'wen' or 'ryn'."

"You are very uncreative in District 9." I tease.

"Hm, says the man who named his daughter a common word in the English language." She teases right back.

Back to the screen:

"That can't be true." Ivy giggles.

"Yes. Yes it can." I hear several voices speak up. I look around and realize that all the District 9 mentors spoke. Isis and Cruz form the middle of the room and Raewyn from right beside me.

"Oh? I'm Erianwen, one of my mentors is Raewyn, my little sisters are Cainwen and Adaren and my best friend is Seren."

"My twin sister is Rhiannon." Raewyn adds to Eri's list.

"You have a twin?" I ask. This is news to me.

She nods. "Yeah...I haven't spoken to her in nearly ten years."

"Why not?" Ever asks innocently.

"After I won she started thinking I was some homicidal psycho even though I only _really _killed one person. I have tried writing letters to her and for three years I'd get one-paragraph responses. But then she just stopped." She explains sadly.

Ever feels bad for her, I can tell. "Do you think she is okay?"

"Oh, yes. She is still alive. She got married about nine years ago- I wasn't invited of course. I found out from Morgana telling me."

"Who's that?"

"My youngest sister. I talk to her nearly every day." Raewyn smiles thinking about her sister. It kind of makes me wish Ever had a sister.

"How many sblings do you have?"

She counts them mentally. "Four sisters, one half-sister and two _much _older brothers." _Big families seem to b the norm in District 9. I wish it was like that in District 12. I know Ever's little friend Kenton is from a big family but that is very rare._

_Mayb__e if I was never a victor I'd have a big family...but them I'd have ended up with Natalie Wilson and living in the Seam somewhere. I do wish Natalie could have lived but then I'd never have fallen in love with Rose and had Ever. Then of course Rose died too, but now there's Raewyn and I love _her _too. None of that would have happened if I'd never won; so maybe being a victor with one child isn't so bad after all..._

* * *

_Ever..._

At about lunchtime, Raewyn scurried off to find more peanut butter, this time, I asked her to bring a whole jar for me too. IT is now midday and it turns out Ivy and Eri are not the only ones to find a redwood-sized bald cypress. The Careers found one, the couple from 11 found one, the pair from 7 teamed up with the pair from 10 and found one as well. The tributes from 6 teamed up with Ant and the boy from 9 (Baines) and they somehow found the end of the swamp and found nice hardwood trees to camp out in.

The Careers are on the move, as are Ant and his allies.

The other tributes are wise and staying in their shelters. But now that they all know about the 'trees' they will be searching for them. And that can't be good for anybody- except the Careers and their bloodlust.

I am sitting there in the control room, eyes wide in suspense, rocking myself back and forth. Not the good kind of suspense either. I mean like hen you are watching a horror movie and you know something is going to pop out and kill one of the main characters but you don't know what, when, where or why.

Ever been in that kind of suspense? It isn't fun, is it?

* * *

_Ant..._

"Keep moving!" Baines barks at twelve year old Cassi, sixteen year old Laurentis and myself. I had allied with the boy from 9 and the pair from 6 late last night and Baines declared himself leader.

I was lucky enough to grab a sword and a backpack last night while everyone fled the gruesome, dismembered body of the girl from 3. I will never forget how the Careers played with the pieces like toys.

Cassi and Laurentis finally convince Baines to stop for the night when we reach a large oak tree with thick, sturdy branches. Baines tosses our food and survival supplies into the tree. "The three of your look for firewood and plants around here. It is still light enough out here."

In order to keep the alliance in tact- and to keep my plans of winning well, plans, I agree without question.

"Ant, it's dark here." Cassi squeaks, grabbing onto my arm and cuddling it like a stuffed animal.

"Are you afraid?" I ask her.

"Wes." She says, pronouncing the 'y' in 'yes' as a 'w' on purpose.

Laurentis grabs Cassi to 'protect' her from the dark. "You go ahead on search for firewood, Ant. I'll keep Cassi not afraid."

"Okay." I agree reluctantly.

Something is fishy. I can smell it.

"Aragghh!" I hear not two minutes after I leave Cassi and Laurentis.

_Boom! _A cannon.

Cassi has a knife in her hand and is stabbing Laurentis's dead body over and over and over. "Take. That. You. Stupid. Foolish. Clueless. Softie. Bastard!" I gasp and drop the firewood. Cassie sees me and prods over, dropping the knife. "Ant!" She shrieks. She burst into hysterical tears. "B-Baines came by here and just killed Laurentis! I tried to stop him, but see?" She pointed to Laurentis's body.

"No Cassi. No. You did that. Now I can kill you now or Baines can do it and he won't be as merciful as I wish to be." I say harshly. I mean it at being merciful, though. I will kill her quickly. Baines will make her suffer. He just has that Career personality despite being from District 9.

Cassi smirks and pulls another knife out of her open backpack. She gives me a dangerous almost psychotic smile as she takes the knife to her face. She expertly cuts across the bridge of her nose, slashes both cheeks, makes a small non-fatal cut in her neck before moving on to her arms and abdomen. She makes one last final cut across her mouth before tossing the knife at my feet and letting out a blood-curdling scream. "Baines! Baiiiiiiines! Baines heeellllp!"

Baines is over to us in a matter of seconds it seems. "What the hell happened!"

"A-A-Ant killed Laurentis and look what he did to meeeee!" Her words come in between a series of spits as she has to keep spitting out the blood that is pouring into her mouth form the self-inflicted wounds.

"No, Baines! Baines you gotta believe me I-" I offer up in my defense as he advances like an angry guardian.

"Save it!" He growls. He grips the spear in his right hand tightly and drives it through my stomach. I know I am dead, but I still hear the cannon go off.

But it is like I am in another world, neither here, nor there. Dead, but alive.

Yet, there is something I like about being dead that Baines and Cassi will never have alive.

Freedom.

* * *

**Random Quote:**

**(While taking CAT tests)**

**Me: *does the match problem 13X2 and doens't see my answer in any of the multiple choices.) Wha-?**

**Me: *realizes what I did wrong***

**Me: * smacks slef in forehead* STUPID!**

**Teacher: Shh! Hahaha**

**Kirsten: Hahaha!**


	47. Danger

**This should be good until this weekend when I have a MEGA SUPER UBER REALLY LONG chapter planned :)**

**I would have put part of it into this one, BUT I wanted what happens next to be all in one chapter and only consist of what I have planned, so that's why there's this one.**

* * *

**Danger**

* * *

_No sense, no consequence  
You're a green stick fracture  
Bounce back at you  
_

_-Third Eye Blind "Danger"_

* * *

_Ever..._

I watch Baines kill Ant and am horrified. The career mentors, save Finnick, are cheering at the genius of Cassi and the fierceness at which Baines killed Ant. I can hear the male mentor from 9 cheering him on as well, "Good job, Baines! Good job!"

Isis Strom, another 9 mentor is burying her face in her hands and Raewyn is shaking her head and muttering swear words directed at him. Hm, guess who's not getting sponsor gifts from _her _this year?

I feel like vomiting in a trash can again, but I don't.

At least Ivy has allied with Eri Tudor. I wonder how that will work out...

Eri and Ivy learn quite a lot about each other while they spend the rest of the day and night in the tree. It turns out that Eri is the second eldest child in her family and her brother is the only one older than her and her little sisters. They are a semi-middle class family and she has been working in a factory in 9 since she was ten.

"We should get going." Eri tells Ivy when her eyes flutter open the next morning.

"Go? Go _where_?" Ivy questions.

Eri shrugs. "I-I don't really know. All I know is that we should get going to _somewhere. _The Gamemakers might get bored. I only heard two cannons last night." Ivy agrees, but suggests they secretly mark the tree so they know which is theirs...just in case. Erianwen agrees and opens up her waterproof black backpack and pulls out a fancy set of knives. She takes her shoes off and hands them to Ivy, "Watch these."

"What are you-?"

"Marking the tree." Eri cuts her off. She places a knife in her mouth, puts one in each hand, and also carries one in her foot. She burrows the knife in her left hand into the tree and does the same with the one in her right. She bends her foot in a weird way and stabs that knife into the tree. she keeps pulling the knives out and climbing up the branch-less trunk like that until she is a good ten or twelve feet up. With the knife in her mouth, she makes an X mark and scratches over it. "There." She says, satisfied with herself once she is back into the filthy swamp water.

Ivy offers Eri her shoes back. She accepts them and then throws them into the water. "I think I will just go barefoot." She says.

Ivy shrugs, "Suit yourself."

"You're smiling." Raewyn says.

I look up, embarrassed. "Am not."

"Are _too_."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Am not!"

"Are too! Fudge!"

"HA! I win!"

I smile and admit, yes, I was smiling. "I'm just glad Ivy has an ally. Eri is pretty cool, too." I turn my attention back to the screen:

Eri and Ivy leave the redwood-sized bald cypress and trudge through the disgusting algae-infested swamp water. "How can you walk barefoot?" Ivy asks.

The redhead from 9 just smiles and says, "I never liked shoes much. MY feet like to feel free. Besides, the swamp floor isn't that bad...it's just squishy!"

Ivy looks like she is thinking for a short while before lifting one foot out of the water and tearing off her right shoe. She does the same to her left. At first, she makes a face when she places both feet into whatever rests at the bottom, but then she giggles. "Hey, if we're going to die in a few days we might as well enjoy it, right?"

Eri giggles back and replies with, "Right."

I check some of the other screens and notice that the Careers are far away from Ivy and Eri...but Baines and Cassi are close by.

Hell no!

* * *

_Ivy..._

I am glad I met Eri Tudor, I just wish it didn't have to be in this accursed arena. I wonder if this is how Ever felt with Zayna, Zephyr, Asia and Colton. I wonder if it was as difficult for her as it is for me.

I know I will die here. I know it is hopeless.

But Eri must win. She seems like the kind of person who could use her life better than I can use mine. I look down at the friendship bracelet on my wrist. _I'm sorry Ever. But this is what I have to do._

I follow her through the swamp and somehow, miraculously, we reach the end. We are both so relieved to be out of that swamp that we jump and scream and holler and carry on like there is no danger, no Hunger Games, no life and death battle. "I'm so glad we ran into each other!" I exclaim.

"As am I!" We hi-five before she adds, "I think we make a pretty good team. What do you say we stay together until the final five?" My face falls. Eri has just brought to light what we have both been ignoring.

"Yeah...final five."

She sees me facial expression and places a hand on my shoulder. "I...I wish we didn't have to meet this way. I wonder if this is how all allies feel."

"Not quite." Says a stony male voice from behind us. There stands the boy I recognize as Erianwen's district partner and a small little girl whom I cannot seem to remember.

She must be very nonthreatening, though, if I had not bothered to commit her district to memory.

"Blaine and I are only allies out of convenience. Whoever annoys the other enough first will just the offed by the one being annoyed, right Blaine?" The little blonde girl giggles an innocent little giggle and I see Eri's tough district partner crack a smile.

Blaine looks at the girl. "Right Cassi. Absolutely right."

I finally get a look at Cassi's small face and bite my tongue. But my tongue doesn't want to stay quiet so it lets slip, "What happened to your face?"

Cassi looks like she wants to cry. And she does. "A-A-Anon Anthony form D-d-district 12! He c-c-cut me and B-B-Blaine s-s-s-saved me just in t-t-time!" Blaine shoots me a look that reads, 'now look what you've done-! You bitch!'

"You bitch!" Blaine shouts, tending to Cassi. "Sh-h-h, it's okay." He whispers.

Cassi lifts up her head. "It's okay, Ivy. I forgive you."

"How did you know my name?" I ask warily. Something tells me Cassi can't be trusted.

"I memorized all the tribute names. I am trying to do the same thing Ever Abernathy did last year. She was twelve and in the Games too, and she won!"

Eri chuckles, "Everyone knows that, Cassie."

"Yes, Erianwen but she's my idol! I want to be just like her!" She bats her little eyelashes. A charmer, that's what she is. Adorable but...sinister? U star into the cuts and gashes all over Cassi's face. _Those cuts...Ant would never have done that._

Cassi reaches up and taps Blaine on the shoulder. Tries to at least. She actual only gets him right below the armpit. He bends down so Cassi can whisper something in his ear. His eyes slowly shift towards Eri and myself. He looks up up and down once...twice...thrice...a fourth time...he skims over us for a fifth. Keeping his eyes glued to us, he give Cassi a wooden nod. She claps cheerfully and announces:

"Good news! We want you to join our alliance!"


	48. The Killing Lights

**ACH! Sorry, I was watching Glee while typing the last chapter and I accidentally switched Baines's name to "Blaine" In the last half there.**

**Baine's name is, in fact, "Baines"**

**This would have been longer, but I saw the word count and was like, uh...yeah...let's split it. Besides, there are like, 2-3 mini-cliffhangers in this chapter cuz I ended it where I did. Teehee :P**

* * *

**The Killing Lights**

* * *

_It's killing time again.  
Put on your face and let's pretend,  
These killing lights won't kill us all again..._

_It's killing time again.  
Cover your face and we'll pretend,  
These killing lights can't kill us all again..._

_-AFI "The Killing Lights"_

* * *

_Ivy..._

"Good news! We want you to join our alliance!" Cassi pipes up happily. Eri instinctively moves her hand toward her sword, wary of a trap. I cannot adequately convey to anyone how foolish I feel when she does that. How can I not have thought about that?

"It is okay Erianwen. You can relax. I don't want to kill you, I just want a bigger and better alliance so we can all survive longer!" Plastered on her face is an innocent smile that could melt stone. I am smart enough to still be wary of this little girl. Cassi sees that Eri and I are not yet drawn in so she decides to bring our conversation to a close. "So, are you in or are you out?"

I look up at Eri. "Your call." She bites her lip and contemplates the options. Knowing that she is know fully responsible for my life as well as hers must be tough. Much to my dismay, Eri accepts the alliance. Luckily, she seems as wary as I am. Perhaps she realizes something I don't. I hope so. Cassi claps happily, pleased with Eri's answer.

"First order of business," Baines begins, "Is to get some rest. It is almost sundown."

Eri giggles, "Sundown. Nobody in District 9 talks like that anymore." Baines shoots her a killer look and she immediately shuts up.

* * *

_Ever..._

I check the sponsor money. Ivy needs weapons. Immediately. Much to my dismay, there is absolutely _no _sponsor money. I bite my lip to keep from screaming in anger. I feel someone tap me on the shoulder and look up to see Hila, the Capitol maid servant. "Miss Abernathy, President Snow has arranged for you to meet with a man eager to sponsor your tributes."

I nod quickly, realizing what she really means. _I don't get it! I should have slept with enough old, perverted, sickening Capitol men to have sponsor money!_

* * *

_Haymitch..._

I see the Capitol servant girl walk into the room and I feel as if my heart has stopped then shattered. I know exactly what she is here for; she is here to send my daughter off to sleep with men old enough to be, well, me.

Just the thought of what will happen makes me want to throw up.

_My little girl...Ever please no! You are only a child, still a baby! More importantly, you are _my _little Ever, _my _baby, _my _little girl. Men shouldn't be hurting you at this age. _

I reach for Ever and grab a hold of her wrist. She tries to avoid making eye contact with me, but I am relentless and once I make eye contact she doesn't look away. We stare at each other for a few seconds, letting my worried and heartbroken look speak for itself.

"Daddy..." She says before whispering to me, "I'm still your little girl."

_No..._ I suddenly realize she isn't. She is no longer that happy, innocent, untainted angel. But I still love my daughter. "Be careful."

"I will Daddy." She says before being led out.

Chaff bites his lip. "I...suddenly feel the need to give Miranda a hug."

"Yeah me too." Seeder says quickly. They dismiss themselves.

I can't take it anymore either, so I run to my room in the Training Center. _Alcohol, alcohol, alcohol... _I muss in my mind. A Puruse the room for some and luckily find a bottle of vodka. I open it and take several large sips. I am ashamed of myself for drinking so much, breaking my sobriety promise to Ever- surely she would understand? Another sip. _I should have died in the arena. Then Ever never would have been born and never would have been forced to be a Capitol plaything. _

Several more sips in and I drunk. Not wasted, but drunk enough to not care about anything or think.

I press the bottle to my lips and prepare to drink the rest of it until I hear the door click open. "Haymitch, don't you dare." Says a soft but stern voice. "Fuck off." I hiss, not looking up to see who the person is.

"Good thing you are drunk. Otherwise, I'd have killed you just then." They say, walking over to me a prying the bottle from my hands.

"Dammit bitch!" I shout, trying to grab the bottle back from them.

"Haymitch can you stop swearing please?" They ask calmly.

I look up and discover that the person is a woman; in fact, she is a very familiar blonde. "Holy hell, I'm sorry I called you a bitch and told you to fuck off! I didn't even see-"

"Sh...Haymitch, it's okay." She says soothingly, bending down to pick up something from the floor.

"You shouldn't be doing that."

She scoffs, "Why is it that men assume pregnant women are so delicate than picking up a pen is a no-no?" The question was rhetorical as it is followed by, "What's going on with Ever, Haymitch?"

I get defensive. "Nothing!"

"What do you take me for, a _stupid _bitch?" She presses. I sense anger in her voice.

"You know I didn't mean that-"

"I know. Just tell me what is up with Ever and I'll forget you even said that." She gives me this uncomfortable stare.

I shake my head. "Rae...Raewyn please don't make me tell you. You do. Not. Want. To. Know...know anything about it." I search for another bottle. I need something to do to keep from telling her.

"No. Tell me." She demands harshly. Her facial expression suddenly softens to one of panic and she sits down next to me on the couch. She places her hand on mine. "Please Haymitch? I know something is up. This-" She gestures toward my drunken self, "-is just proof."

I shake my head. "No. Too many people already know. Snow will hurt you if you find out. I'm surprised he hasn't done anything to Finnick, Chaff, Seeder or I y-"

_Oh that was smart. Now she is really _pissed_! _"Am I the only one who is clueless? Chaff and Seeder know?" She lets go of my hand and crosses her arms. To add another sign of her pissed-off-ness she gives me the coldest glare imaginable.

Slowly, I reach for her hand. She moves it away but even drunk I am quicker than she is. Once I finally have her hand I make sure she doesn't yank it away again. It is a difficult task to be kind and loving while drunk, but I try anyway. "Ya can' know 'cause," I slur. "Oh hell." I sigh.

She gives me a look that says, 'tell me now!'

I gently squeeze her hand before pulling her closer. "You know that Ever is the only thing I care about more than you. That is why you are not allowed to know. Snow threatened Ever with horrible things as a warning for if people _did _find out. Finnick found out by chance, Seeder figured it out, Finnick let it slip when he was talking to me and Chaff wouldn't let up until I told him. That is why we all know."

"But I still want to know! There has to be something I can do to help her...isn't there?"

I shake my head. "Nobody can help her. Not even me."

"Haymitch...I'm sorry." She whispers.

I don't say anything yet but I kiss her hand. When I finally say something, "I want to tell you everything, believe me I do; but I don't want anything to happen to you. I l-" I struggle with the words. _Just say it. _"I love you too much to see you ge' hurt."

Her face changes from angry-worried to shy-smiley. "You- you _love _me?"

"Tha' wasn' obvious?" I slur. I can't believe I had to be drunk to tell her. Oh well. She smiles and leans against me. _I can get use to this._

I just hope I'm not too drunk to remember this tomorrow morning...

* * *

_Eri..._

Fudge!

Ivy putting me on the spot like that...not only was that totally unforeseen it was totally unfair! Had she not learned from that night in the big cypress tree that I cannot handle someone putting their life in my hands! I am angry. No, angry is an understatement. I am irked, furious, enraged, _exacerbated_!

Don't what exacerbated means? Shame, shame, shame. Am I the _only _one who reads dictionaries for fun?

Whatever.

Perhaps I am being selfish and unethical by shoving the blame for my discomfort totally on Ivy. I suppose it is just all of the stress of being in the Games. I sigh and lay my weapons- a sword and a hatchet- down beside me to sleep. _Why Eri? Why did you even waste your time with something as fugacious as an alliance in this arena? I'll bet the only person who will possibly know what "fugacious" means is Baines. _I sigh and recite aloud like at school, "Fugacious. fyoo-GAY-shuhs; adjective. Definition: Lasting but a short time; fleeting. F-U-G-A-C-I-O-U-S. Fugacious."

A strong pair of arms wraps around my waist and a pair of lips start kissing my neck. "You sound so cute when you recite words. You know you don't have to do that here, right, though?"

I smile and shrug.

"Force of habit. You know how strict they are back home. Don't you?"

He nods and stops kissing me. "Babe I want to thank you for doing what I asked."

"Of course, hun." I tell Baines, my boyfriend of three years. We were about to be engaged...before the reaping that is.

"No, no, no. You have no idea how happy it makes me, seeing the girl from 12 here- sleeping peacefully, not suspecting a thing-"

"-while her allies plot to kill her?" I seductively finish his sentence for him.

"Mm, I knew I did something right when I fell in love with you."

I giggle, "But Baines, about the whole killing-Ivy thing...can we nix that plan?"

He pushes me away furiously. "Why!" He roars in the most animalistic way. Had I not known any better, I'd of thought he was a roaring lion.

"I like her. She's sweet- did you know two of her siblings died in the Games? And that she and Ever have been best friends since they were toddlers? That she worries for her siblings back home, but mostly her twin brother? Did you even know she _has _a twin brother?" I touch my hand to his cheek and lean in to kiss him. He pushes my hand away before smacking me across the face with such force I fall down. I do not cry- he smacks me around a lot. I don't ever glare at him. Instead, I respect him more for it.

This is how relationships work in District 9. I do not really like it, but I have no choice.

"No. I did not know she had a twin brother. Do you know _why _that is?" He gets on top of me and holds me down with all of his weight.

"N-no." I stutter, showing fear for once in our relationship.

He pulls out a knife and holds it to my neck. "I don't." He puts more pressure on the knife and it hurts. "Take time." The knife breaks skin and I can feel the warm liquid trickle down my neck before I hear him sniff the air. The slight breeze shifts the metallic scent to him. "To get." He keeps sniffing the air. Blood has always been like a drug to him; the mere smell of it. "To know." He moves the knife away and lowers his face to the cut in my neck. His lips are getting closer to the cut. _Is he going to kiss it? That's sick and twisted!_ "My prey!" He hisses, finishing the sentence at last. But he obviously isn't finished with his display of his dominance over me. He sticks his tongue out and gets a taste of my blood.

"Stop!" I whine, trying to shove him off of me. He is too strong and eventually, he gets off of me once he's tasted enough blood.

"Don't stray from the plan. Again. From now on, you sleep only when I am awake. I will make sure I stay awake so you cannot take the girl from 12 and run. Got it?"

"Y-yes, Baines." I lie. _Never. I'll kill him and Cassi both if I have to! I will not kill Ivy! _

I spot the knife covered in my blood lying next to me so I pick it up and don't bother cleaning the blade. With a sudden burst of courage, I scurry over to Baines. "Consider yourself single."

"You idiot!" He seethes furiously. "Don't you realize I'm the best things that has ever happened to-"

"GYAH!" I shove the knife into his abdomen and instantly yank it out. Then I stab him again. And again. And again. And again. And I don't stop until-_Boom! _

I hear his cannon and I smile sadistically to myself. The cannon wakes Cassi and Ivy who promptly look at me. Eyes widened, mouths in a perfect 'O' shape. I lift the knife, still covered in a mixture of my blood and Baines' blood and point it at the body of my ex-boyfriend. "He attacked me first. Look." I defend, using my free hand to point at the knife wound in my neck.

I can see it in Ivy's eyes that she believes me. Cassi is reluctant. She bursts into tears, "Y-y-you killed B-B-B-Baaaaaiiiiins-s-s-s!" I open my mouth to try and console her, but her tears suddenly disappear and are replaced with a glint of pure hatred and evil in her eyes. "You will pay!" She lunges at me with her knife.

"Yah!" I hear Ivy shout.

"Hu-" Cassi gasps. I look behind Cassi and I watch as Ivy's face slowly looses it's color. She has just thrown one of Cassi's own knives at her back.

_Boom!_

Ivy has just killed Cassi.

"No way- Ivy-"

"Please don't kill me!" She shrieks. "I didn't mean to kill Cassi, I-I-I just-"

I cover her mouth with my hand. "Hush! I'm not going to kill you. We are allies, remember?"

"Yeah, but I killed-"

"So did I! Besides, had you not killed Cassi she'd've killed _me_. You did what you had to do."

Ivy nods.

"Thanks Eri."

"No problem, Ivy."

"I think we should get out of here. The cannons undoubtedly woke the Careers." I say to her. She agrees with me instantly and inquires about where we will go. "The cypress tree?" I suggest, unsure for myself.

She shakes her head. "I'd rather avoid the swamp. What if...what if we don't go so much _out _as we go _up_?"

"Huh?" I am utterly confused.

Ivy smiles. "Walk as far as we feel like walking _away_ from the swamp. We are in the woods now, so there are trees. We should find leafy trees and go _up _them as far as we can!"

I jump up and hug her. "Ivy that is genius! Let's go!" She smiles and happily leads the way to perceived safety.

* * *

_Kenton..._

My whole family has gone to bed- except me of course. I've been sleeping most of the day so I can stay up all night and watch the Games. Witnessing Ivy kill that Cassi girl is...surreal. Not in the good way, either. Her kills are as reluctantly as Ever's last year.

"Bad Kenton!" I shout, slapping myself across the face. _No thinking about Ever! You are watching for Ivy this year! Ivy! _

"Ouch," I complain to myself. I go the small mirror hanging in the hallway to see if there is a mark; I have to wipe away the coal dust before I can clearly see the hand print. It is impossible not to compare it to the one Baines left on Erianwen's face. How any man could hit a woman is beyond me. No matter how many times I've wanted to knock my sisters' teeth out, I haven't! I don't even remember a time when I slapped, kicked, punched or bitten one of them. Wait there was this one time when my older sister took my little stuffed kitty. I bit her in the leg but I was four so I think that can be overlooked.

I turn my attention back to the screen to observe the Games. If anybody thought Erianwen and Ivy were safe...they were dead wrong.

It seems like the pair from District 1 has broken from the Career pack when the camera were not focused on them. They, too, have found the end of the swamp.

Their conversation can be heard all across Panem:

"No fair! _I _want to kill the girl form 12!" Shouts the boy.

The girl grins, "I called dibs, sorry little cousin!"

The boy glares at his cousin. "But City was _my _cousin, not _yours_. _I_ should be getting revenge!"

"But we're cousins!"

"Yeah. My mom is your father's sister. But my father's brother is married to City Ballantine's mother. That makes me his cousin. You were nothing to him therefore _I _should get to avenge his death!"

"Ugh!" She exclaims, exasperated. "Fine. We will kill her together- **but**!- I get the first punch, throw, stab, kick- or whatever. Got it?"

"Sure. As long as I get to deliver the _final _blow."

_Click. _

I press the 'POWER' button on the television to cut it off; I don't need to hear any more of the plotting. There is a piece of paper and a pen sitting on the old coffee table in front of me. I grab it and scribble down a few words:

_District 1 is out to get Ivy. Mentor from 10 send message to tribute years ago. They are a little expensive. Use all of the money I've sent to warn her._

_-KR_

I makes the end of the R circle around both letters.

Of course, for them to, "use all of the money I've sent..." I will have to send money. I run upstairs to by bedroom, the floorboards creaking with every move I make. Carefully sewn into my pillow by my older sister (may she rest in peace) is a stash of money. She and my brother (may he also rest in peace) worked in the mines and saved every last bit of it for the family. There is probably enough sewn in this pillow to last me a year and a few extra weeks. Food, soap, candles- everything. I was always instructed never to use it unless times got really bad.

But nobody knows about the money except for myself and Ever.

Nobody will know if I give it for Ivy's sake. If Ivy can live, then Ever will always have her best friend; and that means she will be happy. It should be obvious that I would do anything to help her and make her happy.

Before I can even think about what I am doing, I run to the front door and grab my jacket. Barring any kind of shoes whatsoever I run through the coal dust-polluted streets to the Hob. Swearing loudly as I pull a thorn out of my foot, I open the door. It is well past the District curfew, but it isn't like any of our Peacekeepers care.

Greasy Sae and Vulcan Hopeflame- Ivy's father- have started a sponsorship program. Nobody is District 12 believes that it will help much- those in the District who _have _money are usually to stingy to give a decent amount of it. _Except Ev- _No thinking about her! Ivy, focus on Ivy!

"Kenton, what are you doing here? Past curfew." Vulcan asks, trying to look intimidating but it is obvious he really does not care.

I check my pocket before I answer. I had wrapped the money and the note in a dirty cloth before leaving my house in the Seam. "The sponsor program. This is all I have- but trust me. It will help." I pull the cloth out of my jacket and place it in the donation box.

Vulcan thanks me and I just nod and hurry home.

_Here's hoping it gets to the Capitol on time..._

* * *

_Ever..._

I had my second meeting with Vice President Cole earlier this evening.

Rather than returning to watch the Games, I run to my room in the Training Center.

_I just want to go home. I miss my room. My stuff. Most of all, my friends. _Lazily, I reach over and press a button, summoning my Avox. The girl is pretty and has red hair. "I have to ask you a question. Sorry to bother you."

She shakes her head as if to tell me, "No, it is okay. It it my job."

"Can I send a letter to District 12?"

She nods immediately.

"Thank you. Do you want a blueberry muffin?" I ask, gesturing toward the box on the counter of the kitchenette.

She shakes her head and points to her missing tongue.

"Right. Can't taste it. Thanks again." I say as she turns to leave.

I tear the room apart looking for paper and a pen. Before I finally find them, the room is a terrible mess- it looks like the Games have occurred _in_the room. I begin to write, letting the pen dance across the page:

_August 27th, 3378_

_Dear Kenton,_

_You will never guess who I asked about sending a letter- an Avox! She was really nice but I'm afraid I made an ass of myself my offering her a blueberry muffin. No tongue no taste; how could I have forgotten?_

_I know that you are probably in no mood to hear about all of my problems when I am sure you have plenty of your own, but I needed to talk to someone. The reason I don't speak to my victor friends is I am afraid to. And my father...well, Daddy has enough to deal with without listening to my problems right now. Though, I am sure he would drop everything for me in an instant, I'd rather speak with someone whom's ears (eyes in this case) are freshest. You can burn this is you don't want to read about my depressing issues- I will be acting like I never wrote this letter once I return to 12 so I expect you never to mention it again._

_Kenton, I just feel so lost. The Capitol. It is a scary place. All that I saw it as when I was a little girl was the place with the pretty lights. But now? I see it for what it really is and I don't like it. Kenton, I need you to understand that I cannot tell you everything. It is for your own safety that I keep what I am about to hint at a secret. I know you will be curious but any questions you ask about the subject will not be answered. Just know that it is horrible: Kenton, the Capitol makes me do things that I never wanted to. I've become a different person while I am here. When I return to District 12 you will not notice any change in me whatsoever. I will put on my happy face- perhaps after going through a few weeks of depression over Ivy's death. (Surely you too must realize it is hopeless.) But I will act like the same Ever for everybody back home because I know that is what they want. They want to believe their"victor" is still strong and cannot be defeated. If that is what they want then that is what they will get. Just believe me when I say that it isn't an easy part to play._

_I suppose this is better saved for when I return home, but I'd rather get it out now. Being a victor has ruined everything for me. I just look at father and wonder if that will be me next year...or perhaps in two years? Five? Ten? Twenty? Thirty? Who really knows, Kenton? I just want to stop worrying._

_I have already begun mourning Ivy's death. I have prepared what I am going to say to her father, mother and Josh in my head. I know I should be prepared for give a few sentences offering my condolences, but it seems like the more and more I prepare myself the less prepared I am. I won't even bother asking you why that is because I doubt anybody can fairly be asked that._

_Here is a question I do not mind asking you, though. I sound too old to be Ever Abernathy, don't I? _

_I am running out of energy to keep my eyes open and I want to get this sent out as soon as possible, so I'm afraid I will have to stop writing soon. But before I do:_

_Kenton, please! Stop sighing up for tesserae. That money you have stashed in your pillow? Use that to survive until you are eighteen. Yes, I know. You will be working in the coal mines at that point but I promise I will try to think of something I can do to keep you from the mines. I know that you and I had figured that that money would only last a year but I have recalculated it and have come to the conclusion that the money will last- if used sparingly- much, much longer than that. Also, you know that Daddy and I will give you any amount you ask for._

_But please._

_Stop putting your name in there more times than I has to be. You are the only friend I have left. Damien is too busy with his family to even say "hello" when we pass in the streets, Ivy will die within a matter of days now, and Josh will likely never speak to me again. Oh he may come around eventually; if we give him 20 or 30 years._

_I suppose you are depressed and I am trying to tihnk of something happy to end this letter with. __I don't know if this will make you happy or not, but..._

_...the starfish bracelet you made me for my birthday?_

_Haven't taken it off since, and every time I feel lost, lonely or just confused I look at it and I think of you. I have no idea why you automatically come to mind and please don't freak out when I say this, but I like it. I really like it._

_Love always,_

_Ever_


	49. Mad World

**This chapter is mostly a WTF! chapter**

**I apologize for little Games action this go around, but all of the WTFness should make up for that**

**lol my sister said Raewyn annoyed her in this chapter, but I think she is acting like a normal freshly-divorced, hormonal, pregnant, single mother to 7 (almost 8) children who is also the only one in the inner circle who is out of the loop and who is worried about a 13 year old girl whom she has motherly feelings toward.**

**TEEHEE!**

* * *

**Mad World**

* * *

_And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad_  
_The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had_  
_I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take_  
_When people run in circles its a very, very_

_Mad World_

_-Tears For Fears "Mad World"_

* * *

_Haymitch..._

I wake up the next morning with a pounding headache. "Ugh, whore." I mumble, rolling over in the bed.

_Wait, what? Bed? I was sitting at the table last I remember. Shit. Where are most of my clothes? _I think, realizing I'm missing my jeans. I look down at the floor, _Oh. There they are. Ach! Why am I not _wearing _them? I don't sleep naked- what if Ever walks in? _I stretch my arm out a little and feel the warmth of a second person.

_Please don't be Finnick. _Is the first thing that comes to mind. I suppose it is the fact that he claims to be in a sexual relationship with my only child that makes me think he is a rapist who will rape grown men and teenage girl alike. In hope hopes that it isn't Finnick, I move my hand closer to the person and feel hair- lots of it. I twirl it around my fingers before finally looking and noticing it is blonde. _How many blondes do I know?_

Holy shite. I think Effie is a natural blonde. I immediately sit up to get a good look at the person. _Oh thank goodness it's just Raewyn. _I think, reaching for her hair again. I gently stroke it before thinking to myself, _What happened last night? Please tell me she has her clothes on. _I lift the sheet just barely and immediately want to freak out. At least she her shirt on...and blue, erm...yenno. _Did I sleep with last night? How drunk _was _I?_

"Mm, morning Haymitch." I hear her mumble.

"Did I wake you?" I ask, concerned.

She shakes her head against the pillow. "I wake up earlier than this anyway."

"Seriously?" I ask, checking the clock. Six-thirty in the morning. I remember when Ever was little I had to get up that early to get her ready for school.

Raewyn just laughs sleepily, "You try getting seven kids ready for school and cooking breakfast for yourself, all seven kids and one controlling ass husband." She giggles to herself, "Well, no husband anymore. Thank God." She reaches for the floor and grabs her jeans, "So. How are you feeling after your drinking session last night?"

"Like I got hit by a car, a train and then another car." I say honestly.

"Good. Alcohol bad. No offense, you're a total ass when you're drunk." She says, lying back down beside me after pulling her jeans on.

My eyes widen, "What happened," I demand rather than ask.

"Oh stuff. But uh, don't worry about it. Unless...unless you want to, of course."

I nod, "Yeah, let's just forget about what I said when I was drunk. I didn't mean any of it."

Her face falls. "_Any_ of it?"

"Wait, what?"

"You really didn't mean a word you said?"

"Huh? Okay that's it. What did I say? From the second you walked in."

She thinks,

"Okay so I walk in and I see you with a bottle so I say, 'Haymitch, don't you dare,' then you're all like, 'Fuck off!' and so I say, 'Good thing you are drunk. Otherwise, I'd have killed you just then.,' and then you say, 'Dammit bitch!' and-"

"Oh hell. Oh my God...I'm so, so, so sorry. I didn't mean that- I'd never call you a bitch sober."

"Or tell me to fuck off."

"Right...yeah, forget I ever said that BS. Just...nothing I say when I'm drunk mans anything."

She looks down again. "Oh."

I'm confused so I ask, "Was there something I said that you, uh, that didn't make you want to kill me?"

After a few seconds of just staring at me she shakes her head more to herself than at me. "You know what? Just- just forget it. You were drunk and like you said nothing you say while drunk means anything." I mentally kick myself where the sun don't shine. _Apparently _she wanted something I'd said to mean something. Trouble is; _what_?

Not knowing what else can be said I simply say, "Yeah...right."

She looks at the clock again. Six forty-seven. "Cool, so...yeah, forgetting it now."

_Holy heck, Haymitch. Why can't you just remember?_

* * *

_Ever..._

I am surprised that I am the first up (out of my circle of victors, anyway). I go to the control room after realizing nobody is there for breakfast and find a seat. The music player is too tempting to ignore so I put the earphones in my ears and turn the volume up.

I do not even hear the footsteps behind me or notice the man standing behind me until I feel a cold hand on my shoulder. "Hey." I jump a mile or so into the air and scream bloody murder. "Hey, chill! It's Finnick!"

"Right, right, sorry." I say shakily.

"Walk with me." He commands.

"Huh?"

"Just come on." I nod and follow him. I inquire about where we are going. "To watch the tape from last night," He begins to explain. "I watched the rest of last night's going ons in my room. You might be interested in the faces in the sky."

I gasp, "Finnick! Is Ivy-?"

"No! Absolutely not. It's...well, you should see for yourself." I nod and let him lead me to a door that reads: GAMEMAKERS ONLY: RESTRICTED

"Finnick, it's restricted." I whisper.

He shakes his head and assures me nothing will happen to us. "The Capitol loves us." Says Finnick with a bite to his voice. He is still pissed about my prostitution- don't get me wrong; I ain't thrilled about it either but I've come to terms with it. To an extent...

He opens the door and I see Beetee is waiting for us on the other side. "Beetee?" I ask in surprise.

Beetee shushes me in a kindly manner. "Finnick, bring her over here."

Finnick leads me to a small screen and presses a button that rewinds the tape. "Watch the faces carefully." He tells me.

The anthem of Panem plays on the tape and then the face of Baines is cast into the sky (as expected) and I know Cassi's will appear next. It isn't until I see the face of the girl from 11 appear in the sky that I realize I am wrong.

"But Beetee how..." I breathe, starting to ask a question. Finnick presses a finger to my lips while Beetee moves to a screen with D11 marked above it and rewinds that tape. He does the same to cameras D12, D9 and D6. He explains that this will show what happened from everyone's points of view.

"Starting with District 9's point of view..." Beetee says before pushing a button to play the tape.

The tape shows Baines attacking Eri Tudor, who then gets up and stabs him to death- not that I blame her. The cannon blast awakens Cassi and Ivy; both girls immediately take sides. Eri & Ivy vs. Cassi. Cassi bursts into tears at first, "Y-y-you killed B-B-B-Baaaaaiiiiins-s-s-s!" Her demeanor changes in an instant. "You will pay!" Eri's face screws up in fear and suddenly Ivy throws a knife at Cassi's back. It appears to be right dead on her spine and a cannon blast seems to confirm it.

Beetee stops the tape here and then switches to the District 12 point of view. "This is the point of view Panem saw." He explains before keeping quiet so I can watch.

I see the same thing Panem saw last night. Ivy's knife-throwing was an involuntary action, much like my District 1 kills last year.

Again, Beetee stops the tape at the cannon blast before switching over to the District 6 cam.

The truth is plain as day. How anybody could have missed it confuses me to no end. The knife was lodged into Cassi's flesh, but it barely missed her spine. She heard the cannon blast for the other tribute and she is seen smiling maniacally to herself. The girl holds her breath and keeps from breathing or moving; even after Eri and Ivy have wandered away she doesn't move until they are long gone.

"That cunning little rat!" I shout.

Beetee shushes be again before showing me the District 11 tape. The girl looks a lot like most residents of the district with her dark hair, skin and eyes. She cannot be older than fifteen- perhaps even as young as fourteen. She undoubtedly is from a poor family and likely had to collect a lot of tesserae. She only has a small backpack, possibly filled with useless items, and a dagger is her only weapon. The pack of Careers, which consists of Districts 2 and 4 since 1 left (along with the boy from 10) are upon her before she can even sense their presence. Not like she'd have had a chance anyway.

Beetee stops the tape as soon as the cannon goes off. "Now look at the time stamps for the District 6 and District 11 cameras." He gestures to the cameras and I see what he means. The time stamp for Cassi's "death" is 10:23:30:89- for the technologically impaired, it means ten hours, twenty-three minutes, thirty seconds and eighty-nine milliseconds past noon. The time stamp for the district 11 girl's death is 10:23:30:98. They are almsot identical.

"I see what you mean, Beetee." He nods and fast forward the District 6 tape. "Cassi is not far from where Ivy and the girl form 9 are, now." He adds.

We leave the camera room and go to the control room to watch the Games.

"Ms. Ever! Ms. Ever!" Shouts Hila.

"Hila!" I exclaim happily. _Oh, shoot! I'm not supposed to be happy about seeing her- snow might punish her._

"Ms. Ever, sponsor money has come in from District 12!" She calls back still running towards me.

"What? They started a sponsor program this year?" Is my response. District 12 has had a good year- me winning and all- so they spent less money on food and such but...I thought they'd just save up the extra cash for themselves. "Thank you for telling me, Hila. I will go count it now."

"I'll...show...you...the...way." She replies breathlessly. Hila follows me into a room where there is a carefully sealed box full of money. Money to help keep my best friends alive. I open it and pour out all of the money and gasp upon seeing all of it. Something wrapped in a black cloth catches my attention, so I pick it up.

* * *

_Kenton..._

"Kenton!" Yadira calls from downstairs.

I roll my eyes at my sister, "For the last time, Yadi! I will not paint your finger nails!"

"Not that, stupid! Cray's here to see you!" Yadi shouts back.

_Cray's here...Cray's here...Cray's here..._ Those are the only two words I heard from that. I want to just grab a Peacekeepers side arm and shoot myself in the face. Cray knows about my hunting, but he doesn't care! None of the Peacekeepers here really do- so long as we don't cause a disturbance while doing so. Has Cray had a change of heart?

"Ken-ton!" Yadi shouts impatiently.

"Shut. Up." I say to myself through grit teeth. "Cray...what, er, what brings you here?" I ask politely.

Cray smiles and pulls an open envelope from his jacket pocket. "A letter to you from the Capitol. Oh relax boy! It's from your _girlfriend_."

"Ever Abernathy is _not_ my girlfriend! We're just friends!" Ugh, District 12 irritates me. Pretty soon there is going to be a massacre; single-handedly caused by yours truly.

Cray just lights a cigarette and guffaws. "Judging by what Little Miss Abernathy wrote with her own pen, I wouldn't be so sure about that boy. Sorry about reading it. That's one part of my duties as head Peacekeeper that I actually take care of; being nosy is fun."

I roll my eyes, "Whatever."

"You said Ever!"

"Oh just shut up."

Cray laughs once more before turning and leaving.

"Oooooh is Ever your girlfriend?" Yadi asks in a singsong voice.

"No! Now go."

"Fine. She's out of your league anyways." She says before stomping off.

Once Yadi is gone, I pull the paper from the envelope and read it:

_August 27th, 3378_

Hm, it's dated and everything. That's not like her at all.

_Dear Kenton,_

That feels weird, her addressing me like that even if it _is _proper letter writing.

_You will never guess who I asked about sending a letter- an Avox! She was really nice but I'm afraid I made an ass of myself my offering her a blueberry muffin. No tongue no taste; how could I have forgotten?_

I chuckle to myself because it sounds exactly like something she would do.

_I know that you are probably in no mood to hear about all of my problems when I am sure you have plenty of your own, but I needed to talk to someone._

No, no, no! _Believe me Ever, this year has been pretty easy for my family and the rest of the District. Thanks in no small part to you, of course. _I think.

_The reason I don't speak to my victor friends is I am afraid to. _

Victor friends. I almost forget that she really _is _in a whole other league now. Yep, totally out of mine.

_And my father...well, Daddy has enough to deal with without listening to my problems right now. Though, I am sure he would drop everything for me in an instant, I'd rather speak with someone whom's ears (eyes in this case) are freshest. You can burn this is you don't want to read about my depressing issues- I will be acting like I never wrote this letter once I return to 12 so I expect you never to mention it again._

Yeah, like I'd forget this. I would listen to Ever whenever she needs me too. I slap myself so being so stupid. Out. Of. Your. Flipping. League. Even before she won her Games she was. Haymitch wouldn't want his only daughter marrying a Seam boy. No doubt I'd work in the mines- probably die working them for that matter.

Okay, that comment about marrying her deserves a kick to the groin. Who said anything about **marrying **her?

Besides, she will probably end up with some victor kid anyway.

Well, maybe not...

_Kenton, I just feel so lost. The Capitol. It is a scary place. All that I saw it as when I was a little girl was the place with the pretty lights. But now? I see it for what it really is and I don't like it. Kenton, I need you to understand that I cannot tell you everything. It is for your own safety that I keep what I am about to hint at a secret. I know you will be curious but any questions you ask about the subject will not be answered. Just know that it is horrible: Kenton, the Capitol makes me do things that I never wanted to. I've become a different person while I am here. When I return to District 12 you will not notice any change in me whatsoever. I will put on my happy face- perhaps after going through a few weeks of depression over Ivy's death. (Surely you too must realize it is hopeless.) But I will act like the same Ever for everybody back home because I know that is what they want. They want to believe their"victor" is still strong and cannot be defeated. If that is what they want then that is what they will get. Just believe me when I say that it isn't an easy part to play._

I want to just run to the Capitol and give her a much-needed hug but then I remember- nope, can't do that.

_I suppose this is better saved for when I return home, but I'd rather get it out now. Being a victor has ruined everything for me. I just look at father and wonder if that will be me next year...or perhaps in two years? Five? Ten? Twenty? Thirty? Who really knows, Kenton? I just want to stop worrying._

"It won't. You're stronger than that."

_I have already begun mourning Ivy's death. I have prepared what I am going to say to her father, mother and Josh in my head. I know I should be prepared for give a few sentences offering my condolences, but it seems like the more and more I prepare myself the less prepared I am. I won't even bother asking you why that is because I doubt anybody can fairly be asked that._

I nod as I read this part. I, too realize it is hopeless. But Ever needs all of the support she can get, that is why I sent the money to her.

_Here is a question I do not mind asking you, though. I sound too old to be Ever Abernathy, don't I?_

"You do, love. Ach! I mean Ever! Ever!"

_I am running out of energy to keep my eyes open and I want to get this sent out as soon as possible, so I'm afraid I will have to stop writing soon. But before I do:_

_Kenton, please! Stop sighing up for tesserae. That money you have stashed in your pillow? Use that to survive until you are eighteen._

Oh fudge! Not good, not good, not good!

_Yes, I know. You will be working in the coal mines at that point but I promise I will try to think of something I can do to keep you from the mines. I know that you and I had figured that that money would only last a year but I have recalculated it and have come to the conclusion that the money will last- if used sparingly- much, much longer than that. Also, you know that Daddy and I will give you any amount you ask for._

"You know I would never ask that..."

_But please._

_Stop putting your name in there more times than I has to be. You are the only friend I have left. Damien is too busy with his family to even say "hello" when we pass in the streets, Ivy will die within a matter of days now, and Josh will likely never speak to me again. Oh he may come around eventually; if we give him 20 or 30 years._

I shake my head at that sad realization of this whole situation. It is true, every single word of it.

_I suppose you are depressed_

"No. Just worried about you."

_and I am trying to tihnk of something happy to end this letter with._

No need.

_I don't know if this will make you happy or not, but..._

_...the starfish bracelet you made me for my birthday?_

_Haven't taken it off since, and every time I feel lost, lonely or just confused I look at it and I think of you. I have no idea why you automatically come to mind and please don't freak out when I say this, but I like it. I really like it._

I swallow at reading this. What...what does she mean by she '_likes_' thinking about me all the time? Does that mean she possibly-? Can she-? It is even possible for her to-?

In spite of myself, I smile.

_Love always,_

_Ever_

I fold the letter up and place it back in the envelope.

Why can't she just realize that I care for her enough to not mind her "depressing" letter? I sigh and pick up a pen and paper and begin to compose a reply.

Twenty minutes later and all I have is:

_Dear Ever,_

I give up and just assume that it isn't late enough to sit down and write.

Before I fall asleep tonight. Yeah, that's when I'll write it.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

After over and hour of silence, I turn to Raewyn and just ask her. "What was it that I said?"

"Hm?" She asks airily.

"I said something last night that you wanted me to mean. What was it?"

She shakes her head and tells me it's stupid anyway. "Don't worry about it."

"No. It's bothering _you _so it's bothering me, too."

She sighs and finally looks at me after the hour of silence. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes."

"I was trying to get you to tell me what was going on with Ever. We went back and forth for a while until you said," She looks away and continues, "Until you said that you wanted to tell me everything but it was dangerous and that you- hell Haymitch, you will think it is ridiculous."

"No, please."

Still looking away she says, "You said that you...loved me too much to see me get hurt." She gets defensive before I can say anything, "Hey, _you _said it. But like we've already established, you were drunk so just...whatever, you know?"

I stare at her for a moment. "I really said that?"

"Yeah."

"Well...I think that's the one exception to the nothing-I-say-while-drunk-means-anything rule. I actually meant that one." I say honestly.

Her faces brightens up. "You- you really did mean that one?"

"Of course. I just with I didn't have to be wasted to say- oof! Unexpected." I mumble before returning her tackle-hug by wrapping my arms around her.

"Now did you mean the 'bitch' and the 'fuck off' comments too?"

"Of course not."

She giggles like someone ten years younger than her actual thirty-one years. "Good."

* * *

_Ever..._

_District 1 is out to get Ivy. Mentor from 10 sent message to tribute years ago. They are a little expensive. Use all of the money I've sent to warn her._

_-KR_

I gasp and drop the cloth full of money on the ground. It scatters but I don't care.

_Kenton._

He did this for Ivy.

But not just for her. They get along okay but she is more like his annoying kid sister than anything. (And he knows what that feels like. Yadira is only a little younger and Ivy and myself). He didn't do this just to get District 12 another victor. He did this for _me_. Me. Me!

I shake my head in disbelief. _But he's out of my league! He is older by three whole years!_

_But who cares about the age difference? MY parents had eight years between them. Mom was 18 when she had me, 17 when she got pregnant. Daddy was in his mid-twenties, I believe._

I feel like I have a split personality disorder.

_He's too good for you._

_He's perfect._

_He's out of your league._

_He loves you._

_He'll never want you._

_He wants you._

_You're too good for him._

Make that a _multiple _personality disorder.

_He just wants sex like the Capitol men._

_He won't pressure you into anything you don't want._

_You can never make him happy._

_You will make him happy. _

_He doesn't deserve you._

Okay, can I **kill **personalities 1 and 3?

I finish counting the money and I am sure I've made many mathematical errors. I blame Kenton for that. Damned boy- he is driving me insane.

If he doesn't confess his feelings for me (or lack thereof) when I get home first, I will. That is my final decision.

"Ms. Ever, the Games are starting for the day." Hila informs me.

"Thank you Hila." I gather up a large sum of money that is close to the amount Kenton and I know was sewn into his pillow and I stuff it in my pockets.

Time to send Ivy that lifesaving letter about District 1...not to mention Cassi of District 6.


	50. 42

**Yay! New chapter!**

**I do not own the Hunger games, nor do I own the song Gunnin'. It is by this AMAZING Canadian band called Hedley. Ever and I wish that Ever was genius enough to come up with it first.**

**Nor do I own Waterloo or Does Yoru Mother know by ABBA. Nope, I'm not pretending ever wrote those. You can't do that to an ABBA song, even in a fanfiction.**

* * *

**42**

* * *

_Time is so short and I'm sure_  
_There must be something more _

_-Coldplay "42"_

* * *

_Ever..._

I grab a sheet of paper and a pencil and head over to the parachute station. Brutus sees me and immediately begins to make snide comments. "Did your mother do morphling when she was pregnant with you, or are you really that stupid? You do realize that you can't just screw a Capitol guy _once _and have him give you sponsor money. You have to keep coming back for him to fork over the dough, kiddo."

I pretended not to hear him, but he only started up again. "Hm, not only are you mentally retarded, but you are _deaf, _too! I actually pity Haymitch. The lousy drunk- wha!" I have just punched him square in the nose, just like Raewyn did when he hit her. "Oh, I see. you don't like it when I talk shit about your father. I wonder how you'll feel about me making rude comments about your mother. She's dead, isn't she? not smart enough to survive the Games, huh? Doesn't surprise-"

"Brutus just shut up and let me send something to my tribute!"

Brutus just grins wickedly and says, "I wonder what would have happened if your mommy never slept with Haymitch...maybe she's have won her Games instead of spending her last night alive fu-"

"Dad." Aeneas says from behind.

"Son, go away." Brutus growls.

"Dad, leave her alone. Mess with her later...besides. Are you forgetting that _my _mom is also dead?" Aeneas glares- _really glares- _at Brutus. That gets him to shut up and he goes to send his tributes something.

"Thanks." I mumble.

"No problem. Anything for the hottest victor kid in existence."

"Stop flirting, I'll never date you."

He rolls his eyes, "I figured as much...will _this _change your mine?" He shows me a wad of cash to use as sponsor money.

"Well...well I- I uh..."

"Too late, kid. My girl's love can't be bought, ain't that right Ever dear?"

I have to force myself to keep from bursting into hysterical laughter. "That's right, Aeneas. I'm with Finnick." The person who came up behind me slips his arms around me and he kisses my forehead. This makes Aeneas walk away angrily.

Finnick pulls away from me and we share a glance for a few minutes before bursting into laughter. "Finnick that was amazing!"

He winks at me, "Anytime, Ev."

I grin and get back to sending Ivy's note. I check the sponsor prices:

**4-word note...$600**

**Each extra word...$36**

I count out Kenton's money. $762. Enough for most of the note, but I need more so I dig into the sponsor money from Vice President Cole and I write Ivy's note.

_Ives,_

_District 1 is out to get you. Change your path. Cassi is not really dead. She is alive and knows where you and Eri Tudor went. Change courses now then change again. You have to keep her off your trail. Be careful, Ives._

_-Evy_

I count out the words: forty-one, not including the initial four. I do the math with a pencil and another piece of paper. I was never very good at multiplication, though, so I went to go find someone that was. I see Chaff over by where we all usually sit to observe. "Hey, Chaff!"

He looks around to see who called him and he sees it is me and he smiles. "What is it, kid?"

"Are you good at multiplication?"

"I was the best in high school...why?"

"Good. What is thirty-six times forty-one?"

"One thousand four hundred seventy-six." He says before stopping to think about it.

"Wow." I mouth, counting out the money I will need. "How did you do that so quickly?"

He looks very sad at this question. "Growing up in District 11, you work in the fields pretty much from the time you can walk. Harvesting has plenty to do with math so you have to learn to be perfect so your family can get the money they need to stay alive."

"Oh."

* * *

_Ivy..._

A parachute falls from the sky. "Finally!" I shout; I have forgotten about the Games, forgotten about the arena. All I wanted was to let everyone know how pleased I was about the sponsor gift. I open the parachute only to see a single slip of paper fly out of it and travel with the breeze. I jump up and catch the slip of paper and unfold it.

_Ives,_

_District 1 is out to get you. Change your path. Cassi is not really dead. She is alive and knows where you and Eri Tudor went. Change courses now then change again. You have to keep her off your trail. Be careful, Ives._

_-Evy_

"Eri! Eri come here!" I shout. She hurries to me, thinking something was wrong. She sees the note, looks at me, and nods. _Boom! Boom! Boom!_

Eri looks around and shouts, "Run!" _Boom!_

"But they were far away!" _Boom!_

"You read ever's note. Go, now!" I nod and follow Eri deeper into the woods.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

I am sitting in front of the big screen with the usual people, watching these damned Games. Four children just died- Chaff's last tribute was ambushed by the Career pack and then a fight ensued amongst the careers the boy from 4 knocked off the girl from 2 and in turn the boy from two kills him. The girl form 4 and the boy from 2 begin to fight violently with each other and they are both wounded fatally after what seems like forever. The boy from 2 is the first to die. The girl from 4 holds on for about five seconds longer.

It's sad.

The whole idea of children killing each other. None of the five that just died were older than sixteen- the girl from 4 was thirteen. _The same age as Ever._

Normally I would be having mental images of my daughter being tossed into the arena. This year, however, I don't need mental images. The only thing that runs through my mind as the girl from 4 dies is flashbacks of Ever's Games.

I was so sure Robbie Hester would kill her last year. When it came down to that final battle...that killer unicorn is really the only reason I have a daughter still today.

Ever is on my right, head down with a little black notebook on her lap and a pen in her left hand. I mentally shudder at the memories of trying to teach her how to write- I am right-handed and found teaching a left-handed child to write a difficult task.

Ever's head is still down a few minutes later, still working on something in her notebook. "You know you don't have to stay in here if you don't want too, sweetheart."

"I'm fine." A long silence follows before Ever lifts her head up and I can see that there are quite a few words written on the page she is on. "Working on something?"

She immediately covers it with her right arm. "No."

"Then how come you covered it?"

"Well because, uh because...because...because I'm working on something and I'm embarrassed."

"Why, sweetheart? Everything you write is amazing."

"Yeah but this one is kind of more personal than the others I've written. Plus, I still have to figure out the chords." I smile at her use of guitar language. She bites her lip and adds, "Most of what I've written before this one are kind of, well, kind of _nice_. This one isn't _nice _and happy."

I push a piece of her hair behind her ear and say, "Well alright. I'll leave you to it, then."

* * *

_Ever..._

The tribute count is now down to ten. Only two more need to be knocked off before we get to watch the final eight battle it out. It's depressing, really. I sigh and look down at the song I have just finished writing:

_Tell me what I'll never be_  
_Make me feel broken_  
_Tell me what I should believe_  
_I didn't know it was broken_

_And I'm gunnin' for you_  
_I'm gunnin' for you_  
_And I will wait, I'll write another letter to myself_  
_And I will find out that morning comes faster alone_

_I hate the way you look at me_  
_As if I was broken_  
_And the perfection of my frailty_  
_Has been questioned and broken_

_And I'm gunnin' for you_  
_I'm gunnin' for you_  
_And I will wait, I'll write another letter to myself_  
_And I will find out that morning comes faster alone_

_And I feel like I'm fine today_  
_I feel like I'm ready to take this on_  
_And I'll fight you to the grave for it_  
_I'll never let you take a part of me with you_

_And I will wait, I'll write another letter to myself_  
_And I will find out that morning comes faster alone_

_And I will wait, I'll write another letter to myself_  
_And I will find out that morning comes faster alone_

_The perfection of my frailty has been questioned and broken_

I can't wait to go to bed tonight so I can grab my guitar and figure out the right chords. I have most of them down, but I'm not too sure.

An unusually cold draft flows through the room and everybody seems to tighten their jackets around them. I am not wearing one, however, so Finnick takes his off and drapes it around my shoulders. "Finnick, aren't you going to be cold?"

He shakes his head and insists.

"Well, okay." I shrug.

No other tributes die by seven o' clock that night. Ivy and Eri are far enough away from Cassi and District 1 to be safe for at least the night.

"Daddy?" I ask.

"Yeah?"

"I'll be right back. I'm just going to put this-" I wave the notebook for a second or two, "-with the rest of my stuff." I turn around and walk off to my room in the training center.

* * *

_Kenton..._

I give the letter a disapproving look. I did the best I could- which isn't exactly excellent, but...it counts.

_Dear Ever,_

_Asking an Avox if they want blueberry muffins...yeah, that sounds like something you would do. _

_And what the hell is this, "Oh you probably don't really care," BS? Ever, I care. You have been my friend since I can remember and I can't count all the times you've helped me out (often with monetary needs) so it wouldn't be fair for me not to listen to your problems._

_Ever, those are serious problems. I understand what you mean by the Capitol making you feel lost- form what I see on the television it is a whole new world. But- hey!- look on the bright side...the Capitol is clean. Hm, you're right, that isn't much of a bright side. Tell me, have you seen any normal human beings there?_

_Back to a serious point; I understand that you cannot tell me exactly every little thing but please listen to me when I tell you not to worry about my safety. Quite frankly, I don't even care about my own. I care and worry about you more than I do anybody else (myself included.) I don't know exactly why you are that one person, but that's just how it is I suppose._

_Now Ever, don't mourn Ivy's death before it has actually occurred. Believe me when I say that loosing a loved one is never easy and that no matter how sure you are that they will die soon, it is better to enjoy the fact that they are alive up until the moment they die. If I could have just one minute of knowing that Kaleb and Yeva were alive- you have no idea what I would give._

_You want to know the best way to prepare your condolences to Ivy's family? Don't. The only way that it will mean anything to them is if it comes from the heart. Nothing from the heart can be rehearsed. _

_Another thing- you wrote how District 12 likes to think their victor is strong but she really isn't- that's the biggest lie I've ever heard...ever. If you think you are weak then I'd hate to see your idea of strong. A weak victor would have gone insane by now. You winning the Games at your age was both a miracle and a curse. I'll bet you feel like you are forever on that line between child and adult, right? Sure, maybe that can be passed off as a normal teenage mindset, but it's different for you, isn't it? Maybe you feel like an adult because of what you saw in the arena, right?_

_Hm, not too sure why I'm saying all of that in the form of questions. I know you too well to even think I'm not right._

_Back to where I was- you're stronger than you want to believe. Now you can take that or leave that, but just know you will never pass yourself off as weak to me._

_When you get home I promise I'll be here and ready to talk. You're too beautiful to be upset._

_Love,_

_Kenton_

There is so much I wanted to say to her, but nothing we say is safe with Cray around. The idiot, I just want to deck him.

* * *

_Ever..._

I walk back down to the control room and find that I am just in time for the final account of the dead tributes. Luckily, Ivy is still alive. There is, however, two more faces to the line-up than I expected.

Joining the face of the four fallen careers and the boy from 11, are the faces of the tributes form District 7. I look up at Finnick with a confused look. "Alligator mutts," he explains. His breaths smells of stale liquor. _He must have had a few drinks earlier. Hm, drunk Finnick should be fun._ "Totally gross, blood everywhere. So much is was almost fake. If it was a monster movie, it would have been pretty funny but since it was actual people...well, Raewyn pulled an Ever and threw up into the nearest trash can."

The male mentor from 7, Felling Caliper, also seems quite shaken from his tributes' gruesome deaths. "Oh, and Felling threw up too. Can't believe I forgot to mention him. I think it was a chain thing because it went Felling, Raewyn, Seeder, Truly, Jemima- oh! and Wiress. She threw up too. All of the puking was really gross."

"Good thing I wasn't in here." I joke.

"Why?"

"Because I'm a chain puker. If I hear it, smell it or see it, I do it too. I don't think I could have made it to a trash can."

Finnick laughs, "Psh, I doens't bother me...much. I mean, it's disgusting but that's life. Besides, can you imagine my _so_seductive mouth tasting of vomit?"

"Okay now that's just gross."

Finnick smirked, "At least neither of us did it in front of our _boyfriend_." He gives Raewyn a pointed look.

"Okay now I was feeling sick _before _the alligators. It's called _morning sickness_." Raewyn rolls her eyes at Finnick.

"It's not morning." He offers.

"So? It's not really time specific."

"But-"

"Finnick Odair I will castrate you then feed your balls to Enobaria."

This just makes everyone (including Seeder and Raewyn) burst into hysterical laughter. "And you let her sleep in your bed?" Finnick jokes to my father.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

After we all finish laughing about Raewyn threatening Finnick's manhood we all can't help but to notice our gazes drifting towards Felling Caliper. Felling is somewhere between Chaff's age and Seeder's, leaning a little more towards Chaff's than Seeder's. Finnick looks at me for a second or two before asking, "I know we aren't chicks but do you give Caliper a hug?"

"No, that's just stupid. Men don't hug each other."

"Right," Chaff agrees. "We just punch each other on the shoulder."

"That's stupid." Raewyn says.

"Very stupid." Seeder agrees.

"Very _very _stupid." Ever adds on.

"Not to us men! That's like, six months worth of therapy!" Finnick argues.

The girls look at each other and share identical glances. "Still. Stupid."

"Okay, then what do you suggest?" Chaff asks them raising his eyebrow.

"Talk to him?" Ever suggests.

Raewyn shakes her head. "No, the guys are right. That's the girly thing to do. They're not _man enough _to do the girly thing." She gives all three of us a challenging look but her wink in my direction isn't exactly...discreet.

"Not man enough?" Finnick asks. "Hm, I think Haymitch can protest that."

Her face goes red but she quickly recovers and snaps back at Finnick with, "Okay, so maybe Haymitch is an exception but what about _you _Finnick?"

"You are forgetting what..._business _I am in."

Her lips curl up in a devious smile. "Oh you mean the one where you sleep with other men? No, I didn't forget."

Finnick fails to come up with something to counter that one so he just mutters something unintelligible under his breath.

* * *

_Ever..._

I exhibit decent conversation skills when I change the subject. "Beetee gave me the newest version of the music player he invented. It now can hold over 1000 pictures and over 200 books as well as hundreds of hours of music. I already have most of the space on the music part of it filled."

"Das messed up. How do ya know so many musics?" Finnick asks, obviously drunk.

I roll my eyes and inquire, "Who gave Finnick alcohol?"

"The career mentors." Chaff says. I raise an eyebrow at Daddy and he nods in agreement.

"Oh. Well as long as it wasn't you guys..." I trail off.

The Career mentors seem to be having a little drinking party over in their corner. Brutus and Enobaria begin to sing loudly and obnoxiously. The worst part? It's one of my favorite songs; Waterloo by ABBA.

_My, my, at Waterloo Napoleon did surrender  
Oh yeah, and I have met my destiny in quite a similar way  
The history book on the shelf  
Is always repeating itself_

_Waterloo - I was defeated, you won the war  
__Waterloo - Promise to love you for ever more  
__Waterloo - Couldn't escape if I wanted to  
__Waterloo - Knowing my fate is to be with you  
__Waterloo - Finally facing my Waterloo _

Finnick and I are both cringing and though he is drunk, he is still sober enough to understand what the devious look I am giving him means. Finnick and I begin to sing even more loudly and obnoxiously another ABBA classic; Does Your Mother Know.

_You're so hot, teasing me_  
_So you're blue but I can't take a chance on a chick like you_  
_That's something I couldn't do_  
_There's that look in your eyes_  
_I can read in your face that your feelings are driving you wild_  
_Ah, but girl you're only a child_

_Well I can dance with you honey_  
_If you think it's funny_  
_Does your mother know that you're out?_  
_And I can chat with you baby_  
_Flirt a little maybe_  
_Does your mother know that you're out?_

During the 'flirt a little maybe's I twirl my hair and give Finnick a flirty look to which Finnick responds with a stern face and a, 'Does your mother know you're out?'

Even after Brutus and Enobaria stopped singing because they've admitted defeat Finnick and I don't stop. We even start randomly dancing during some part.

_Take it easy (take it easy)_  
_Better slow down girl_  
_That's no way to go_  
_Does your mother know?_  
_Take it easy (take it easy)_  
_Try to cool it girl_  
_Take it nice and slow_  
_Does your mother know?_

_I can see what you want_  
_But you seem pretty young to be searching for that kind of fun _*Finnick waggles his eyes suggestively*  
_So maybe I'm not the one_  
_Now you're so cute, I like your style_  
_And I know what you mean when you give me a flash of that smile (smile) _*We give each other a seductive grin*  
_But girl you're only a child_

_Well I can dance with you honey _*We begin dancing here*  
_If you think it's funny_  
_Does your mother know that you're out?_  
_And I can chat with you baby_  
_Flirt a little maybe_  
_Does your mother know that you're out? _*I realize that Finnick's shirt is missing*

_Take it easy (take it easy)_  
_Better slow down girl_  
_That's no way to go_  
_Does your mother know?_  
_Take it easy (take it easy)_  
_Try to cool it girl_  
_Take it nice and slow_  
_Does your mother know? _*Oh, now where did his pants go?*

_Well I can dance with you honey_  
_If you think it's funny_  
_Does your mother know that you're out?_  
_And I can chat with you baby_  
_Flirt a little maybe_  
_Does your mother know that you're out? _*At least he still has his boxers on.*

"Finnick! Finnick okay stop before I suffocate!" I manage between hysterical giggle fits.

"Ya nah, I think we shou' ge' _you _drunk sometime." Finnick laughs. Daddy shakes his head disapprovingly. I offer to put Finnick to bed.

"Come on Finnick."

"No."

"Finnick-"

"Do you know the muffin man, the muffin man, the muffin man, do you know the muffin man who lives on-"

"DREARY LANE! The muffin man lives in Dreary Lane! My gawd I hate that song." Raewyn shouts.

I push Finnick out and lead him to the District 4 floor.

Finnick curls up in bed with a pillow. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get drunk." He slurs.

I shake my head. "No Finnick, it's okay. I grew up with worse."

He shakes his head. "You shouldn't get it from me, though."

I roll my eyes. "Finnick, you're drunk. Go to sleep."

"Goodnight kiss?"

"Fin-"

"Cheek, kid. What'd ya think I meant?"

I smile and kiss his cheek. "Good night, Finnick."

* * *

_Ivy..._

"This is the final eight, Eri." I whisper to her as we huddle together in a tree.

Eri is silent.

"Eri?"

"I heard you. I just can't believe it is real."

"Neither can I." I whisper.

Eri turns to face me and props her head up with her arm. "You do realize that everything will be different, now that we are so far in, right?"

I am confused. "What do you mean?"

"We can't just keep playing it safe, Ivy. If...if we want it to come out where one of us wins without us having to knock of each other in the end we need to act like Careers. We need to hunt like them. Not necessarily to kill, but to find the others. If they want to fight we will fight."

"Why we just wait 'till they find us here?"

Eri shakes her head. "That's stupid. It's better to find each other and catch each other by surprise. One of us might survive that way."

It is all I can do to keep form crying when I tell she is right.

Because she is.

One of us will be dead soon.

Most likely tomorrow.

The other has to win.

For both of us.


	51. Running Up That Hill

**Yay! New chapter!**

**Once I finished writing the funny part, I had Running Up That Hill by Placebo playing on repeat...set the depressing mood.**

**There will be a lot of Games action in the next chapter. I picture final eight interviews day as an uneventful day, so that's why there's really not much about them here.**

**Also, we haven't had a major Haymitch-being-an-amazing-father part in a looong time. OR a Haymitch 'awww' memory. So, yeah.**

**Ha and the part at the VERY end of this chapter is something random my friend and I came up with and I thought it was cute-ish.**

* * *

**Running Up That Hill**

* * *

_It doesn't hurt me.  
You wanna feel how it feels?  
You wanna know, know that it doesn't hurt me?  
You wanna hear about the deal I'm making?  
You be running up that hill  
You and me be running up that hill_

_And if I only could,_  
_Make a deal with God,_  
_And get him to swap our places,_  
_Be running up that road,_  
_Be running up that hill,_  
_Be running up that building._  
_If I only could, oh..._

_You don't want to hurt me,_  
_But see how deep the bullet lies._  
_Unaware that I'm tearing you asunder._  
_There is thunder in our hearts, baby._  
_So much hate for the ones we love?_  
_Tell me, we both matter, don't we?_

_-Placebo "Running Up That Hill"_

* * *

_Ever..._

I head down to the control room bright and early. Much to my surprise, a very hungover Finnick is already there so I grin and carry two mugs over to him. One is full of black coffee and the other is full of apple cinnamon tea. I hand him the coffee and he looks up and smiles, "Hey, baby." He waggles his eyebrows suggestively before taking the coffee mug and wrinkling his nose. "Coffee?"

"It helps with hangovers." I explain.

"How do you even know that?"

I sigh, "I live with Haymitch Abernathy."

"Right." Finnick says glumly. He takes a sip of the coffee before lowering it, "I'm sorry I let the other careers get me drunk. You shouldn't have to see me all wasted and junk."

I shake my head, "Really, drunk people don't bother me. I'm used to it." I flash him a grin and say, "Besides. I like Drunk Finnick better than Sober Finnick. There's no way you'd loudly and obnoxiously sing with me sober."

He laughs, "I probably would, sober."

"Yeah, you're right." I giggle. He groans and massages his forehead. "Oh stop complaining."

"It hurts!" He argues back. "Us men are babies when it comes to pain."

I speak to him in my best baby voice, "Aw, dwoes baby Fwinnick need a kish to make 'is boo-boo bettew?" I lean over and kiss his forehead like a mother would- or so I'm assuming.

He pushed my face away and wiped off the kiss on the back of his hand then licked his hand. "I just made out with you in a totally non-pedo way."

"Finnick stop sexually harassing my daughter- you know you can always scream 'rape,' sweetheart?" My father says from out of nowhere, peanut butter on his right middle finger. I smirk, figuring that he had gotten into Raewyn's peanut butter stash.

Finnick's lips curve up in an identical smirk. "Says the man who does more than 'harass' a certain blonde we know." I giggle and Finnick smiles before continuing. "If she's not up for it you can always rape her."

"That's disgusting. I have more decency than someone who would do..._that_."

I feel another person enter the room and I look up to see Raewyn, with peanut butter and Oreos in her arms, raising her eyebrows at my father. "More decency than someone who would do what?"

"Um...I- uh, well-" He stammers.

"He has too much decency to to rape you." Finnick answers.

"Finnick!" She gasps. He facial expression turns into a smirk. "It's not rape if it's willing."

"Ach! Scared for life!" I exclaim, covering my eyes while Daddy, Finnick and Raewyn laugh.

I fell someone playfully punch my shoulder, "Says _you _who, when you caught them the first time asked Haymitch, 'You had sex, didn't you?'"

"Oh my gosh, Ever you told him that?" Daddy gawks at Finnick.

"I tell Finnick everything." I answer.

"Damn."

Once the moment wears off, we go to quietly watching the Games. Finnick and I are able to sneak Oreos and peanut butter without anybody noticing. Today will at least be a slow day for the Games. Today is the day of the final eight interviews; lovely. Surely I will be asked more questions about Ivy. I ask Daddy if I can just retreat to my room for the day, but he told me that wouldn't help. They would just come and interview me there. I swear under my breath and get Ever!ed by my father and Finnick. I roll my eyes before eating another Oreo.

Caesar chooses now to come into the room. "Elizabeth Abernathy, do you have a moment to give us a quick interview for our segment on Ivy?"

At first, I give him him a blank expression from him calling me 'Elizabeth,' but then I remember; I go by my middle name professionally in the Capitol. "Um, let me check my schedule." I joke. Casesar laughs, as usual as I flip through my songwriting notebook and pretend to be looking at a schedule. "Yeah, I think I can squeeze you in between now and my daily streaking through the Capitol."

He laughs before composing himself and signaling his camera crew to turn the cameras on. I am shocked that he didn't give me time to get dressed- I'm still in my pajamas! "As promised, my dear friends of Panem, I am here with Ms. Ever "Elizabeth" Abernathy to discuss her best friends Ivy Hopeflame! So Ever, how does it feel to be in front of the Capitol cameras again?"

"Uhum...well I'm used to it now." I giggle girlishly because I know that's what Panem wants. "Although, it would be nice if y'all can get get it a little more than three inches from my face." I overly exaggerate my slight District 12 accent. Something that people back in the America civilization would call, 'Southern.'

They zoom out a little which make me smile. "I was joking, but thanks for the consideration. Now Caesar why don't we cut to the actual topic? I want to change out of these pajamas as soon as possible."

He chuckles before asking, "I think it is safe to say that nobody in Panem was expecting Ivy to make it this far. How does it feel knowing one of your tributes have such a chance of survival?"

I flash the cameras a winning smile and say, "Well Caesar, it...it feels amazing. I mean, Ivy's been my best friend since we were like, three, and seeing her make it this far is amazing."

"Have you _ever _thought about what might happen if she wins?"

"First, clever pun on my name, Caesar."

He chuckles, "Hey, it is not my fault your father gave you a name that is a common word in our language."

"Actually, my mother named me. But anyway, back to Ivy. Yes, I've thought about it."

"And what do you imagine?"

I bite my lip. "Like I said, it would be amazing. We wouldn't have to walk all the way across District 12 just to talk to each other anyway- _and _District 12s people would be well-fed for another year."

He smile sympathetically. It always helps playing the, 'poor District 12' card. "After your stunning victory last year, how do you think Ivy can possibly match it?"

"I really don't think it is all about 'matching' my victory. In fact, if a freak firestorm wipes out all of the other tributes except for her and that is why she wins...well, then that would be just as perfect as if she suddenly went all legit ninja and took out everybody herself. Although, I doubt anything can be as random as my killer unicorn."

He laughs, "Legit ninja?"

"Yeah. Like legit."

"Legit?" He is confused.

I nod excitedly. "Inside joke between Ivy, myself and two ouf my other friends from District 12."

"Care to explain?"

I gasp in pretend shock and whisper to Caesar, "Caesar! One is _never _allowed to re-tell an inside joke! It's like a rule!"

"Oh please?" He begs.

"Well since you said please...no."

"Tell us, tell us," He chants, his camera crew joining in.

I hold up my hand to shut them up. "To stop Mr. Hungover Odair over there- hey that rhymed!- from punching you all, I will tell you the condensed version. Okay, so, Ivy, her twin Josh, our friend Kenton and myself were just chilling at my house this one time and Ivy was being really annoying so Josh said, 'Shut up before I drop kick you to District 11!' Then Ivy was trying to act all tough and said, "Yeah, if you try and to that I'll smack you into next week!" Kenton was just sitting there quietly eating ramen then he spoke up and said, "If you two don't _shut up _I will go legit _ninja_ on your asses!' And that was the funniest thing we've heard in the longest time."

Caesar laughs, "Are all of you District 12 kids so funny?"

I shake my head. "Nah. I'm just lucky enough to be friends with the funny people."

"So what will be the first thing you say to Ivy when she wins."

"Seeing as the first thing she will say to me will be something totally stupid like, 'Does my hair look okay?' it'll probably be something like, 'You idiot. You just survived the Hunger Games and you're worrying about something like that!'"

"You have her profiled down to a tee?"

"Of course. If you were ask her the exact same questions about me you would get different but just as correct answers from her."

He smiles, "One last question, Ever. Do you have time for that?"

"Meh. Why not." I joke, causing him to giggle in a very feminine way.

"What will you do if Ivy does not win?"

I fall silent.

"Ever?"

I shake my head slowly. "I really do not know. Why would you even ask that?" I finish asking my question with anger in my voice. I can tell I threw Caesar off with my anger and I made no effort to correct that. He quickly sighed off and mumbled his thanks after cameras were off and made a speedy exit.

I throw the Oreo in my hand at the wall and it breaks into little Oreo pieces. "Effing Capitol people! Leave me a lone for five seconds!"

I feel a pair of arms grab me and make me sit back down. "Calm down sweetheart. He just wanted to get your opinion on a few things."

"Yeah but he could have given me time to change out of my pajamas." I shrugged, forcing a smile. I hate to admit it, but I am hoping Daddy is stupid enough to believe I'm really only mad about the pajamas, and not the fact that I have another..._appointment_ with Vice President Cole this afternoon. He smiles back which confirms that he is. I give him an awkward side hug and leap up, telling him I am going to go change.

I leave the room and take the elevator up to my room. I don't bother to shut the door, seeing as the only person who can possible walk in on me would be an Avox- what would they care? I opened the closet and pulled out the first shirt and a ncie pair of black skinny jeans. Totally uncomfortable, but they're cute.

I hear the door of my room open and close. "Hello?" I call out. No response. I shrug; it must be the Avox girl. I slips out of my grey shorts and grab my jeans, about to put them on.

"Hello, Ever." Says a voice I am happy to hear.

"Hila!" I hug the servant girl.

"A letter for you from District 12."

I take the letter from her and open it. The handwriting is Kenton's and my stomach gets those butterflies that I hate so much. I read every word as if my life depends on it and I can feel myself blushing when I read where he wrote nice things to me. _He thinks I'm beautiful. If he thinks I'm so beautiful, then how come he hasn't acted on his feelings? Just man up and ask me already! Maybe he doesn't care about me enough in _that way_ to ask...so I won't waste my time when I return home. Epic fail, Ever. _"My father's love life is better than mine."

"What?" Hila giggles.

"My father's love life is better than mine." I repeat. Hila just giggles and leaves the room.

I sigh and mumble something unintelligible under my breath.

~.*~.*

Vice President Cole's mansion is so familiar to me now it is scary. I gently tap on his bedroom door. "Come in, Ever."

I walk in and very timidly say, "Afternoon, Mr. Vice President."

He wrinkles his face in disapproval. "Don't call me that."

"Sir, I prefer not to get too personal with you."

He runs his fingers through my hair. "Why not? We have shared more than one very personal experience in this room."

I inch away from him. "Like that means anything."

"Watch what you say, little bitch. Just for that, you'll be here even longer than usual."

I shake my head and plead with him. "No, no, no please. My father will get worried."

"I don't care. You are my personal plaything tonight and I intend on enjoying you. Understood?"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes _sir_."

It is another five hours before he allows me to leave for the Training center, which is a full hours' drive from his mansion.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

The Games have ended for the day (one casualty, District 7 boy. Mutts) and I wander up to District 12s floor. I see Ever's door is open and unlocked. I hear a few notes from her guitar flow out into the hallway and I creep up to her door to get a better listen, but she hears my footsteps and stops.

I sit down on the foot of her bed with her and pull her into a hug. I take the notebook from her hands and move it aside. Gently moving her bangs from her face, I look her in the eyes. "What is it?"

"You don't...you won't understand..."

"Try me."

She looks at me then looks away. "I-I hate myself. I hate what I've become."

"Ever, please. I need a detailed explanation."

She inches closer to me and hugs me tighter. "I- it's just-" She bursts into tears. "Oh, this is a girly discussion!"

I grab her hands, "Ever. Listen. I know I'm your father and usually I would say, 'yeah, go talk to Seeder about your girly issues,' but this is obviously different. You are my daughter, Ever. My _only _daughter, and I want you to be able to come to me with anything."

Her lip trembles and she buries her head in my chest and cries some more.

"I can't stand the fact that...that I'm thirteen and I've slept with more people than you have! Daddy, these men are your age and older- okay there was this one guy who was like Finnick's age- but that's still much older than me! It's not fair, it's just not fair.

I know you'd rather avoid discussing my virginity, but as a teenage girl that is one of the most important things to me and...and well I was saving it for the person I truly loved and wanted to be with for the rest of my life but- but now it just seems like one big joke! Everything is a big joke now. I wish I still had my innocence; I wish I could still be your little girl without any worries. I hate the people here! Especially the men!

These Capitol men...they don't just want the sex. It's more than just being one of those one night stands. They expect me to be like a therapist, too! They carry all of their dirty laundry that they can't bring home to their wives and children to me! You know most of these men are married? Snow makes me see Vice President Cole very often- you know he has a daughter _my _age? I can't imagine having sex with someone who is the same age as my child- can you?

You know what, don't answer that. It's just disgusting! I don't understand how these men can just use me like that without a second thought. I feel like such a terrible person because I am helping men cheat on their wives and walk out on their children but it's not like I have a choice!

I just hate myself, Daddy! I hate myself! I'm dirty, filthy, disgusting, low, despicable, I'm a terrible person, I don't deserve to live anymore- I really don't."

My jaw drops at Ever's words. It wasn't even fourteen years ago she was born without any worries or cares or fears.

_Flashback..._

_Two miserable days Rose had been in labor with our baby. It's not impossible for that to happen; Rose always says that her family has an odd history for long labor periods._

_Neither of us had wanted to find out the sex of the baby until he or she was born- but ten to one it had to be a girl. The only names me could come up with were for girls. They seemed to pay off, because because our daughter is now twenty minutes old. She's been cleaned up for a while (good thing. I nearly threw up- birth is disgusting) and the only thing left to do is to name her._

_The thought of naming this little baby is pretty frightening. Whatever we choose, she'll be stuck with her entire life. Maybe even more frightening is the whole _idea _of her being my daughter. I have no idea how to be a father (much less a _good _one) or anything about little girls. But for the past nine months there has been nothing I've wanted more than for her to be born._

_Rose looks down at the little baby. "I've always thought Ever was an interesting name. It's not common so she won't be one out of six Ever's at school."_

_I smile and kiss Rose's cheek. "It's your decision, sweetheart."_

_She giggles softly so as not to disturb the baby. "That's right! You're not the one who had to carry her around for nine months and go through two days of labor!" She pauses then returns back to her usual sweet-natured self._

_"You know Haymitch, I think you should pick the middle name." She said._

_"Oh I'm no good at that stuff."_

_She smiles, "Something simple? Please, I'm totally stuck on a more old-fashioned middle name for her- to even out the unusual first name. But it also had to sound nice so that way when she's in trouble we can snap at her with her first and middle name so she knows but it also doesn't embarrass her too much. Oh, but it can't be too cutesy with Ever because babies grow into big kids which become adults eventu-"_

_"What about Elizabeth? It isn't too cute but it goes well with her first name."_

_Rose smiles at the little girl. "Ever Elizabeth Abernathy. I like how it sounds."_

_It still seems so surreal. "Abernathy?"_

_Rose grins, "Of course! What's the point of giving her _my _name if I'll change it once we get married? Besides, Ever Elizabeth Fairchild doesn't sound right all put together." She glances up at me. "Haymitch? What's wrong?"_

_"Nothing."_

_"Don't lie, please." She leans against me so she can be more comfortable. "What's bothering you?"_

_"The Capitol will hurt her."_

_Rose in confused. "What?"_

_"You remember how I won, Rose?"_

_"The forcefield, yeah." She smiles and stares down at the sleeping Ever._

_"Like I've mentioned before, Snow wasn't too happy about that. He's hurt nearly everyone I've dared to care about. The thought of something happening to someone so blameless is...I can't even imagine it."_

_"Then don't." Rose whispers. "You should hold your daughter. She'll like that." Rose gently places the newborn in my arms and I am careful to hold her how Rose instructed me to. "See? It isn't so bad."_

_She is right, it isn't. I actually like being able to hold her. _I love her so much already. Barely and hour old and I would do anything for you. Let's just hope you stay this way.

_End flashback..._

How does one get from that to this?

"D-Daddy?" Ever stutters with her eyes blurred from tears.

I hold her face in my hands, "Listen to me. You. Are. Perfect. I've yet to meet somebody who is as brave, strong, talented, intelligent, funny, kind or beautiful as you are. All of these thing you hate about yourself...aren't you. That's what Snow wants you to think. You are not some dirty little creature used for the lust of Capitol men. You are better than that and you need to realize that."

I force myself to say this next part. "And about your virginity, sweetheart...the right person will come long eventually and not care about what Snow made you do. Ever, if I could make some sort of deal with God I would switch places with you in a second. You don't deserve any of this but you need to take all of these terrible experiences and use them to make you stronger. Don't do what I did and give in to it all."

"But Daddy nobody is going to want to have anything to do with me after they figure it all out!"

"That is not true, Ever and you know that. Finnick still loves you, Chaff and Seeder do, and I will _always _love you. You are the reason I stopped drinking so much. _You _are my reason for basically living. And I can think of at least nine people who won't think of you any different when they find out."

"Who, Daddy! Who won't think of me as some whore?"

"Damien, Josh, Kieran, Miranda, Mags, Beetee, Ivy and Kenton. Ever...if only you could see the way that boy looks at you."

She mumbles something unintelligible.

"The point is, the people who really care about you will think of you as the same person you always were. Always. Anybody who thinks different is not worth your time."

Ever smiles a genuine smile. "Why do you always have to cheer me up? Can't I just stay depressed."

I smile and kiss her forehead, "Because you're my favorite daughter."

"Daddy I'm your _only _daughter." She giggles.

I laugh and say, "Exactly why it is okay to say you are my favorite." She hugs me one more time before yawning. "You sohuld probably get to sleep, now."

"I'm not sleepy." She whispers.

"Pretend you are." I chuckle as she crawls under her blankets. _Just like when she was a little girl._

"Goodnight." I say.

"Sleep tight."

"Don't let the bedbugs bite."

"And if they do-"

"-hit 'em with a shoe."


	52. Life

**Yay! New chapter!**

**Happy belated birthday to It-Was-Enchanting! :D**

* * *

**Life**

* * *

_Life sucks...then you die._

_-Anonymous_

* * *

_Haymitch..._

"'Morning." Ever mumbles, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

"Aren't those the clothes you were wearing yesterday?" I ask, pointing at her jeans and shirt.

She nods and says, "I didn't want the Capitol catching me in my pajamas again." She takes her seat on my right and leans against my shoulder. When I move a little she slaps my knee, "Sit still! I'm trying to sleep on you."

I chuckle and push her bangs out of her face. "You can just go back to bed."

"No. Have to stay here. People always die after interview day."

I nod. "We're in the final seven."

"Seven?"

"District 7 boy got eaten by aligator mutts."

"Gross." She yawns. "I'm cold."

"You're wearing Finnick's jacket."

"Yeah but I'm still cold. Give me yours, too." She opens her eyes and looks up innocently. "Please?"

"Fine." I say, taking my jacket off and hanging to to her.

"Yay, warmth!" I laugh and mess with her hair. And in an instant, her cheeriness is broken. There is a large explosion followed by two quick, loud cannon shots.

* * *

_Ivy..._

I wake up screaming after hearing the explosion.

It was rather far off, but it must have been a big explosion, as the smoke iss thick where Eri and I are. Or, perhaps the explosion killed Eri and I. That would explain the two cannon blasts we just heard. Perhaps we are dead and I was just screaming because somehow, I knew I was dead.

But that is not the case.

No. Eri and I are very much alive. Shocked, but alive. Eri looks up at me as if to ask what that was. All I can offer in return is a shrug. She nods and slowly stands up. Most of the trees in the forest have been burnt to piles of ash by the explosion.

_There should be flames somewhere. _I think.

As if she read my mind, Eri says, "It's a Gamemaker trick. Some kind of thing they made in a lab to burn the trees and everything else to ash."

I am confused. "But Eri, how come they burnt down all the trees? Doesn't that make it harder for everyone to hide out?"

"Exactly, Ivy. The Gamemakers seem to want the Games to end soon. Not that I blame them; four out of six Careers are dead, so that eliminates the yearly Career pack battle-it-out at the end thing. I forget who all is left beside you, me, District one and Cassi. I think the Gamemakers are hoping you and I run into Cassi again."

I nod slowly, letting her know she is right. She looks at me soberly. "We should keep moving. We need to stall running into Cassi and District 1 as long as we can."

"What if we can't?"

"We need to try."

* * *

_Ever..._

I scream as the explosion happens- it was so loud, I thought it was in the control room with us. Some of the other victors stare at me in annoyance as I grab my father's arm. He doesn't seem to mind, so I pay little mind to the others. I think he just likes to feel like I still need him sometimes, like I did all the time as a little girl.

The two cannon blasts go off and my eyes widen. _No, please! Ivy and Eri have to make it to the final five, please, please, please! _I look up, afraid of what I will discover. To my relief, the cameras are showing the dead pair of District 1 tributes. They were in the area of the explosion when it happened. Their deaths were surely quick and painful. That's how I'd rather have gone in the arena. Quick and painless would have been the ideal way, but nobody dies painlessly in the arena. But a quick shot of pain would be okay, too.

_That was gross. _I think.

The camera turns off temporarily because the explosion caused some problems. They will be fixed in less than an hour.

My head is still buried in Daddy's shoulder. "It wasn't Ivy, sweetheart."

"I know." I mumble, sitting back up.

"Oreo?" Raewyn offers kindly.

"With peanut butter?" I ask, giving her the puppy dog eyes.

She laughs, "I have seven kids. That face doesn't work on me...but I like you, so sure." She dips the Oreo into the jar of peanut butter and passes it to me. "I need another jar anyway."

Daddy laughs at her, "More peanut butter?"

"When _you're _pregnant and _you_ start craving the most random things, _then _you can laugh." She points a finger in his face but then she just starts laughing, too.

_Un-holy fudging llamas. My father's love life is better than mine. _ "I'm going to go get the peanut butter. I was going to get up for a cup of tea anyway- either of you want anything else?"

"No thanks." They say in unison. I go down to the kitchen and get a cup of apple cinnamon tea and a jar of peanut butter. I pause before ordering another cup of tea for Finnick. He will never admit it, but he likes those 'sissy' flavored teas. I was back into the control and head over to where I was sitting, and hand Raewyn the peanut butter.

"Ha, peanut butter!"

"I think I should start counting the number of times a day you say 'peanut butter.'" He jokes.

"Yeah, I tried that last time I was pregnant...I lost count at one hundred seventeen."

"I never loose count. When Rose was pregnant with Ever, I _swear _she said 'carrots' at least two hundred times a day...she kept loosing the bag somewhere, so we would have to go into town at least four times a day for more. That was _fun _in the winter."

Raewyn raises her eyebrows and looks at the two of us. At first, I am worried that she is upset about Daddy mentioning Mom. When she speaks, she talks about something entirely different?" Winters are bad in District 12?" She unscrews the cap and dips her finger in the creamy spread.

I nod, "Yes, they're really bad. We get blizzards every two or three years or so. But even without the blizzards they are very harsh."

"What about District 9?" Daddy asks, a little confused. "Aren't you further north than we are?"

"Yes, District 9 is located by the Great Lakes." Us District 12ers stare at her blankly. "You...don't know what the Great Lakes are?" We shake our heads. "Oh, well uh...hm. I'm not sure how to explain them. Maybe if you two remember anything from North American geography...the Great Lakes are Lakes Superior, Michigan, Huron, Erie and Ontario. They're like, really big. Kind of like little freshwater oceans."

"Oh!" I exclaim. "I know where those are. Near what used to be Michigan and Ontario, Canada and like, maybe a few other US states."

"Right." Raewyn says before continuing. "Sometimes we get a blizzard, but after all of the factories went up in District 9, the Capitol figured out some way to modify the weather patterns to keep production going. Everyone in 9 hopes that one day, the weather modifying machines will just breakdown. The factories are no fun place to work."

"How do you know all about the factories?" Daddy asks.

She smiles half-heartedly. "I working in one from age six to the time I was reaped. They make children as young as five work in them. That is the main reason families in District 9 always have so many children- I am the oldest out of my mother's nine children, but out of my father's thirteen I am the fourth. More children means more paychecks."

"That's stupid." I say. "In District 12, you can't work in the mines until you are 18- an adult. Isn't child labor illegal?"

Raewyn scoffs coldly at that law. "Do you really think the Capitol cares about what happens to a bunch of expendable children in the Districts?" She answers her won question. "No." She looks down before looking up again and continuing. "One of my younger sisters lost two fingers in a factory accident; I've had a few close calls myself, but not nearly as much as my twin sister or older half-brothers. Although. there are rpobably more near-misses in the mines of 12, right?"

Daddy shrugs. "Maybe. Probably not, but it seems that way because people always make such a big deal about them- which they are, but..." He shrugs.

"Would you say life sucks more in 9 or 12?" I ask curiously.

Raewyn bites her lip and tilts her head to the side to think it over. "I am not sure. How to people act in 12?"

"What do you mean? And how do they act in 9?" I ask.

She explains, "Are they generally cruel, kind, apathetic? How do families work in 12? In 9, the children and wife do most of the working, then they give all of their money to the head of house- usually the husband- and he decides what to do with it. Often he spends it selfishly. Then he blames his wife and children for not making more money. That, of course, causes him to be rather irascible and he often will snap and just start beating on whomever is closest. Though, more often than not, he will smack his wife and kids around for the heck of it. Usually the daughters though. He will spare the boys the most of it because he wants them to learn how to run the house and keep their wives and daughters under control, and sometimes..." She trails off, as if talking about brings back bad memories.

"Did that happen to you as a kid?" I ask softly.

"Yes. And and adult. Father and ex-husband." She says apathetically. "But understand, the District 9 mindset doesn't think it is abuse. That is why I sound like I do not care- believe me, I do. There is nothing more that I would want than for it to all stop for everybody. I find it disgusting and unfair, but that's just how it is. Your turn."

"Abuse is abuse in District 12." Daddy says coolly, obviously pissed about how men in 9 treat women. "Families- in the Seam at least- depend on one another for survival, so your family is the neighbor's family. If someone's father dies in the mines or is...hung for hunting-" I can tell those last three words were hard for him, knowing that is how his own father died. "-the neighbors will take it upon themselves to teach the children left behind how to hunt or make a living my more legal means. But that only goes as far as neighbors. If it is some random Seam person, they won't lift a finger to help you unless you really care about the person. It's not that they don't care, it's just, well, nobody from the Seam has any money. No money no food. So in order to _get _food, you have to hunt and gather in the woods- and we all know how illegal that is. But teaching people to hunt takes time, time that could be spent helping keep yourself and your family alive. That's why help only goes as far as neighborly."

Raewyn thinks for a moment. "Hm, I think District 12 has if worse. At least people get fed in 9. That's something the men are good at providing, despite their usual attitude towards their families- oh! It's back on." She points to the screen with the Games on it.

* * *

_Ivy..._

Eri and I have been walking for what feels like hours. We finally stop to take a snack break. Eri unzips her backpack and pulls out some of the apples her mentors sent her just before we hear a sound behind us. _Crunch! Kir-uuunnnchhh. _The second crunch was long and drawn out, as is somebody was adjusting their weight in place.

"Hello, Ivy." A voice snarls.

* * *

**Oh no! Who is it? Cookie if you figure it out :/**


	53. How To Save A Life

**:( Some of your are going to wish to kill me now**

**Also, the Games will end soon :)**

* * *

**How To Save A Life**

* * *

_Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend _

_Somewhere along in the bitterness_

_And I would have stayed up with you all night_

_Had I known how to save a life _

_-The Fray "How To Save A Life"_

* * *

_Ivy..._

Eri and I have been walking for what feels like hours. We finally stop to take a snack break. Eri unzips her backpack and pulls out some of the apples her mentors sent her just before we hear a sound behind us. _Crunch! Kir-uuunnnchhh. _The second crunch is long and drawn out, as if someone is adjusting their weight on the leaves.

"Hello, Ivy." A voice snarls.

The person smirks evilly, unfitting on their naturally sweet face. "Funny. I figured Eri'd be dead by now. Or at least that you two would have split up."

I gasp and whip my head around. Eri screams in horror. We are staring into the face of Cassi of District 6. "Hello. Cassi." I say bravely.

Cassi just laughs cynically. "Ivy, Ivy, Ivy. Here you are, about to _die _and you are acting like you have courage? That's funny."

Eri bars her teeth at her. "Cassi, stop."

"Why?" She bends down closer to my face and pulls a knife out of her backpack. "I knew you never had a shot at becoming the victor...want to know why?"

Eri lunges at Cassi with her sword, but Cassi is smarter than that and effortlessly dodges the blade, grabs it, and kicks Eri to the ground. She doesn't kill her, yet, though.

"Back to what I was saying. You don't have what it takes, Ivy Hopeflame." Cassi tosses Eri's blade to the side.

"Enlighten me." I say sarcastically.

"The brains. The strength. The will-power. The cold-heartedness. You posses none of it." She grins an evil little grin. "So now, you have to die so someone who is smart, strong, self-confident and cold-hearted can win. Someone like...someone like...like _me_."

"Cassi-" Eri begins.

"Shut up or I'll kill you next!" She stands on top of Eri to make sure she does not move while she kills me.

Cassi taps the point of her knife with her index finger before curling her tongue around the blade. "Sharp. Perfect." She purrs before slowly slicing my neck. I feel the blood pour from the gash she made. "Aw, poor Ivy. Maybe I should end your suffering quickly, huh?"

Eri struggles beneath Cassi feet but can't seem to move.

The younger girl giggles and waves the bloody knife in front of my face. "Smell that blood, Ivy? It's yours." She once again brings her tongue to the knife and licks it. "That metallic taste, Ivy! If only you knew how amazing this tastes!" She frowns. "I can't seem to enjoy it with you being in such pain, though. After all, we _are _allies." She takes her knife and buries it into my chest.

And again.

And agian.

And again.

And again!

_Boom! _I hear the cannon blast, but it feels like it is from afar. It is so surreal, I don't even feel **dead **in the usual sense. I feel **free**. Something Cassi will never be alive.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

As soon as I see Cassi approach Ivy and Eri I know something bad will happen. But even I was shocked at Cassi's brutality. How can such a small girl be so _evil_?

The cannon goes off and I have my arms open before Ever even begins to move into them. It takes a second or two for it to really register in Ever's mind that her best friend is really gone but that doesn't soften the emotional blow. She leans into my arms like a small child and just stays there. I am prepared for her to start crying, but she doesn't. _Perhaps she is numb. _I think to myself.

_Boom! _A second cannon goes off and I hear Ever inhale sharply. "Daddy?" She whispers.

I know what she wants to know without even having to ask her. "Eri threw Cassi off of her just now and killed her with her own knife."

"Good." She whispers.

I push the hair from her face and kiss her forehead. "Do you want something to drink, sweetheart?"

She shakes her head. "Can I just leave now?" Her voice sounded so weak and pitiful just then that I just nod and tell her to go right a head. "Thanks, Daddy." She gets up and literally runs out of the room.

"You think she'll talk to me?" Finnick asks.

Seeder shakes her head, "No, she needs to talk to another young woman right now." She eyes Raewyn expectantly.

"Huh?" Raewyn asks, completely confused. "Oh! You want- are you sure? I'm terrible at the whole, comforting people thing. Ask any of my kids."

"You are probably the only person she will talk to, right now." Chaff says.

She looks to me for the final opinion. "She likes you a lot. Maybe you can get her to let it all out."

"Fine, but if she ends up being even more depressed than she already is- I warned you." She stands up and goes to talk to Ever.

_Liar. You're an excellent cheerer-uper. You're just worried._

* * *

_Kenton..._

Ivy's death comes as a totally shock to me. I hear my little sister scream from the next room and realize that it's really true. I can just picture how Ever feels right now.

_Oh God! Ever! _I really need to stop thinking about her, but I don't care. When she finally gets home I'm going to be there for her to talk to.

* * *

_Ever..._

My room on the District 12 floor feels like a safe haven right now as I cry into my pillow. My face has been buried into my pillow for so long I can feel myself starting to suffocate from lack of oxygen (not like I care) to my lungs. There is a soft gentle knock on the door to my room. "Finnick, not now. Please?" I sniffle.

"Not Finnick, sweetie." A kind, motherly voice replies from the other end.

I don't think I've ever been happier to hear my father's girlfriend's voice. "You can come in."

"I figured you would say that." Raewyn says, coming in and sitting beside me on the edge of the bed. I smile for a split second and move closer to her. I feel safe talking to her like I do with Finnick. "Do you need to talk about it, sweetie?"

I shake my head. "Not really. I was expecting it, I knew it was coming. Like knowing it will happen makes it less horrible, you know?"

"Then why were you in such a hurry to get out of there?" She has a certain...well I don't know, about her. Anybody else asking me that question would get clocked right in the face, but the way she asked it seems, well, it seems _different_. It seems _loving_. Is this what having a mother feels like? because she's the closest thing to one I've had.

"Because there are other things, things I can't tell you." I explain vaguely, putting my head in her lap.

"Is it the same things Haymitch is trying to protect me from?" She asks, brushing my hair with her fingers.

My eyes widen and a little too quickly I say, "Maybe."

She leans back against the headboard, "Snow's forced you into prostitution like Finnick, correct?"

I gasp, "Who told you? Did my father-"

"No. Nobody told me; I figured it out all on my own."

"But how?" I inquire.

"Capitol servants keep pulling you away for _meetings. _They've been doing that to Finnick since two years after he won his Games so I just made an educated guess."

I sigh, "I just wish you didn't have to be right."

"Oh sweetie, I was hoping I was wrong."

"Well, you're not." I mumble, turning away from her.

"Hey," Raewyn says, placing a hand on my shoulder. "It's alright. Just talk if you want to."

I move closer to her and lean my head against her shoulder. "Daddy won't want you to know the truth about everything. Can you keep the fact I told you a secret?"

"Oh course sweetie." She says in the kindest voice. "Do you think there's a way to get you out of it? I can walk down to the presidential mansion and kick Snow's ass for you."

In spite of myself, I giggle. "Yeah, because you totally strike fear into the heart of Panem's evil dictator."

"Never underestimate the power of a pissed off hormonal pregnant woman; unless you wish to end up in a ditch, covered in petrol, on fire." I laugh and she laughs with me. "Feeling a little better?"

"About Ivy or the prostitution?" I ask.

She shrugs, "Both I suppose."

I expect the full realization of Ivy's death to hit me once I get home to District 12 and I tell her this. Then I go on to say that the prostitution is becoming something that I am accepting in my life. "I don't condone it," I explain, "But I have to face it and move on from there. Remember what you said before the Games started? The thing about how we all have a choice about what to do with the bad things that happen to us"

"I remember." She says with a smile, "I'm glad you did."

I smile back and tell her that I am choosing to make the same choice she did. "Learn from them and use them to make you stronger and smarter."

"You're very wise for a girl your age. I wish I was at thirteen." I laugh and tell her she seems like she was always a wise person. "Not at all." She answers.

"What _were _you doing at thirteen?"

"Certain things that I choose not to repeat."

I gasp, "You were a whore at thirteen, too?"

She shakes her head, "No, I didn't have sex for the first tie until I was older than that. There are more bad things a thirteen year old can do than have sex."

"I know _that_." I laugh.

She smiles and slowly stands up. "I'm going to go and make sure Eri is okay. Do you want to come down too or stay here and rest?"

"I think I'll just try going to sleep. I have to write Kenton another letter, anyway?" Her eyes perk up in curiosity and she asks me who Kenton is. "Just a friend." I lie. Okay, so we aren't official yet, but I really do like him.

"Just a friend- lies. But I won't tell Haymitch."

"He knows Kenton likes me like that...I think." Raewyn just giggles and promises to keep quiet anyway.

After I lie there and stare at the ceiling, I get up off the bed and go to the table. I find a piece of paper and a pencil and I write:

_Hey Kenton,_

_Well, Ivy is dead. Much to my surprise, I am not as upset as I thought I would be. Perhaps it is the fact that I was expecting it and knew it was coming; I hope that is all it is. I am hoping I have not become hollow to tribute deaths; that is the last thing I want to be able to stomach. I'm not sure how much longer I can keep up with this mentor thing. Next year will certainly have the same results. Two more dead tributes under my watch for the 74th Hunger Games. Just like now with the 73rd._

_Psh. Lovely. _

_The victor should be revealed within the next day or two. Three days at the most. I'm secretly pulling for Erianwen Tudor from 9 to win._

_To answer your question about whether or not I am enjoying myself- I am! Finnick Odair, a victor from 4, is the coolest person I know. He is always just around to cheer me up and hang out. I have actually known him since I was four years old and he's always liked me ever since. Finnick and I have this on going joke about how we sleep together and we only talk about it when my father is around. _

_Most of the other victors are really great, too._

_Beetee from District three is awesome and so are Chaff Baakari and Seeder Keller from 11. Chaff has two children around my age and I've known them practically since I was born. I think one of my favorites though has to be Raewyn with District 9. I'm not sure what her surname is...she was born Gizmo but them she got married and it was Gizmo-hemsworth. She got divorced between my Victory Tour and this years' Games (oh my gosh I have to tell you something!) and she didn't keep his name or go back to her maiden name because she hates them both. I think her surname now begins with a 'K.' __Her mother's maiden name or something..._

_You'll never guess why she filed for divorce. She, I kid you not, left her husband for my dad._

_Hold on, hold on, let it sink in..._

_OH MY GOSH I KNOW!_

_It's really sweet though. She was my mom's ally in the 60th Games, which is kind of funny. Speaking of mothers, how is your mom? Your dad? Yadira? Keegan and Kasper? You?_

_I hope you are all doing okay. Gosh I'm so selfish for not asking earlier!_

_Write back soon! _

_Love always,_

_Ever_

_For the record, Finnick Odair and i do not have sex...together._

* * *

**Ugh, my mom is beign a Communist and is kicking me off. I'll write more soon.**


	54. Rough Cut Design

**The Games will end offically next chapter and will have plenty of final _ action :)**

**I do not own Rough Cut and sadly, neither does Ever. The song is from the genius mind of Amber Rubarth**

* * *

**Rough Cut Design**

* * *

_You try to make your escape  
But the blows keep on coming  
And as the dust clears away  
You start to notice something  
Each time a piece crashes down into the floor  
You're a little lighter than just before_

_-Amber Rubarth "Rough Cut"  
_

* * *

_Ever..._

I am lying awake on the bed in the room at the Training Center with my old digital camera on my lap, flipping through old pictures. With a sigh, I press down on the little plastic flap that hold the battery and the memory card. I pull out the memory card and unzip a little travel-size makeup bag that I use to carry my old memory cards in. I dig through the bag until I find one the one that I labeled with pink nail polish, 'July '82.' July 3782 to be more specific. I pop the card into my camera and flip through the pictures on that card until I get to one of the ones I was looking for. I stop at one and sigh sadly.

The picture is one of Ivy and I sitting in my bedroom back home in District 12. We took it when we were both 12, so it wasn't even a year later that I was reaped and was thrown into the arena. We were sitting close together with our heads right next to each other and big smiles on our faces. I can tell that we each have a stuffed animal in our hands because the pink ears of Piggy the Pig are showing below Ivy's face and one of the purple tentacles of Squidly the Squid is showing below mine.

I am going to miss taking pictures like those.

I sigh, pop out the memory card, and throw it back into the zip up makeup bag. To my left is a digital clock. I turn my head to check the time and see that it is 10:25. Sighing, I swing my legs off the bed and when my toes touch the floor I stand up and hurry out the door.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

Is it possible I can feel worse about Ivy's death than my daughter does? It must be. I feel terrible about it all; Ivy was like a second daughter to me. _Her poor parents._ I can't imagine how loosing a child must feel. At least my Ever is alive.

There are footsteps coming into the control room and I see Ever sit down next to me. She doesn't look as bad as I was anticipating, luckily. "You know you don't have to stick around to watch, right? I usually don't."

She leans against me and hugs me. "I promised Josh I'd bring Ivy home."

"Ever, listen to me. You know you can't blame yourself for not being able to keep that promise."

"Yes I can. I should have tried harder, Daddy."

I kiss the top of my daughter's head and tell her that nothing is her fault. "Do me a favor sweetheart and just get out of here. Spend some time by yourself- you need it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am sure."

"I'll be back later." She mumbles before walking off.

I get bored after a while since Raewyn isn't here either. She is now in the very beginning of month six of her pregnancy and it seems like she has it worse than Rose did with Ever. Raewyn has been having Braxton-Hicks contractions since late last night. She insisted she was fine but I played the over protective card and made her stay in her room on District 9s floor all day. Besides, Starlyn and Zahra-Rose have missed her.

Goodness, her kids. I'm so mad at them- they're making me miss having a little kid around. Damn my drinking! It's my own fault I missed so much, I know that; but I would give anything to have Ever be a little girl again.

* * *

_Ever..._

Despite my desire to stay and watch Eri (hopefully) win, I listen to my father and take a personal day.

I know taking a personal will not make me happy. To be honest, the only thing that will would probably be Finnick getting drunk again. _That _was funny.

I walk the streets of the Capitol and head to the Sparkly Tangerine Coffee Shop. I order my usual hot chocolate with whip cream and marshmallows and take a seat near the back. The back is one of my favorite places to sit, because they really go overboard with the whole orange theme. The lights are casting a dim glow more orange than anything else. Even the roses are a light orange color, the color of orange sherbet ice cream. I reach into my black handbag and pull out my little black notebook with lyrics I've written in there. I have been working on this one song since I won the Games last year and I have never been able to figure out just one last verse to write.

In the far left corner of the back of the coffee shop is a piano that is- what else?- painted orange. I know that I want this song to be played on the piano- not my guitar. Still, I hesitate. People are allowed to play the piano here. It, and the guitar at the front are open to anybody who wants to show off, needs to practice, or is hit with inspiration. Still. The song is quite personal to me.

I decide to work on it after some of the people hanging around here in the back leave. That might take a few hours, but it's like my father said- I need a me day.

It isn't long until I finish my first cup of hot chocolate, so I have to get up and order another one. I ask the girl behind the counter if I can have a pen and she gladly passes me an orange pen with sparkly orange ink. I thank her politely and she stops me from turning around. "You're Ever Abernathy, right?"

"Right. What's the big deal?"

"You're a victor! Plus, I read every single magazine article about you pouring hot chocolate on Brutus Manson's son!"

_Great, _I think. _As if having Aeneas as my fanboy wasn't bad enough, I know have fans of every gender. _"Oh, that's..." I try to come up with the right words. "That's awesome. Thanks."

She giggles as I turn and walk back to my seat at the lonely table in the back.

Hours pass and the girl at the counter shows up at the back. "Ms. Abernathy?" But I do not hear her at first. I have my music player in my ears on full blast. She has to tap me on my shoulder to get my attention and when she finally has it, all she does is hand me an envelope. "President Snow asked me to deliver this to you. He came in here himself!"

Disgusting. The way she acts when she talks about President Snow...such adoration, such wonder! Disgusting.

I take the envelope from her hands without thanking her. She does not seem to mind my unkindness, though. Not that anybody in the Capitol really would care how I act (except Snow and Cole) so long as they are in my presence; what with their obsession over victors. Sometimes being a victor has it's upsides, upside like being able to be rude have nobody say a word about it.

I am dreading what the note from Snow says. "Probably another 'meeting.'" I think aloud in utter disgust.

_Tsk tsk Ms. Ever,_

_I thought I told you to keep your courtesan position a secret, did I not? Did I not also specify that the only person allowed to know is Mr. Finnick Odair? I thought I could trust you two with this secret- now who knows? Let us count, shall we?_

_1. Finnick Odair_

_2. Seeder Keller_

_3. Chaff Baakari_

_4. Your father, none other than Haymitch Abernathy_

_5. Brutus Manson and various other victors form the richer Districts, and_

_6. Raewyn Forsyth_

_Shame, shame Ms. Ever. Your father succeeds in keeping his drunken mouth shut around his girlfriend but you tell her anyway? It is funny how she changed her surname to her mother's maiden name after her divorce. She must **really** wish to cut him out of everything, hm? _

_Wouldn't that be wonderful if life could work like that? If we could just cut out the undesirable blemishes? As much as you and I would love to do that, we can't. I am willing to be forgiving, Ever. I am willing to forget that the secret is out so long as-_

I fold the paper down in a start as I feel the presence of somebody enter the room. I slowly look around and see nobody but the young man, perhaps a student at the Capitol university, that has been sitting here studying for the past hour and a half. He will be gone in another half hour. Tops.

I shake my head, "You're just being paranoid, Ever."

_I am willing to forget that the secret is out so long as you agree to a very special meeting for me. Relax you imbecile, I am not talking about me. I prefer indirectly causing your suffering, child. I will give you the option of choosing the night of this special meeting. If you wish to meet with the man tonight, then just send this back to my mansion. If tomorrow, then don't do anything at all. Just know that you have no room to decline. If you try to avoid this meeting then there will be dire consequences. _

I swallow and fold the note shut again and I hear the young university student pack up his books and leave. I still do not feel alone in this coffee shop, but I shrug it off once again as paranoia.

_But I will throw you one last line- this meeting will be your last meeting until next year. Vice President Cole is rather discouraged that your last night in the Capitol this year won't be spent with him but I am sure he will get over it, what about you? After all, I reminded him, there is always next year. Doesn't that just excite you?_

No.

_Of course it doesn't, so why bother asking? Really Ever, you should be thankful that all I am doing is holding your being a courtesan over your head more heavily than before. If I was not feeling generous today I could always arrange for Cray to catch your little lover back in 12 hunting. Oh don't act so surprised, Ever Abernathy! I know you all break the laws- I just turn a blind eye to it. Besides, it is hard enough keeping my _victors _in line, much less some insignificant boy in the Districts; even the lover of a victor._

_I do hope you don't plan on denying that you love this boy, Ms. Abernathy. I have read the letters the two of you have exchanged and they are quite touching. I will not say that I am pleased with this, but I am also not displeased- at least, not displeased enough to take action. _

_Just be careful where you tread. You and that boy both, be careful where you tread._

_Consider yourself warned, **princess**,_

_President Cornelius Snow_

I rip the letter into little tiny pieces, pieces that have so few letters written on each of them that it is impossible to decipher them now. I throw the pieces on the floor in rage and burst into tears. I am alone, I am sure of that, so I let the tears flow freely.

"Punish me, Snow! I'm the one that couldn't keep the secret. Not them, not him. Especially not him." I lift my head up and use the napkins the girl behind the counter had given me earlier to dry my eyes. I refuse to cry for a second longer. I aim the balled up napkin at the orange garbage and I miss. Not much of a surprise, there.

I take a look at the clock. Three o'clock in the afternoon. I shrug before standing up, grabbing my notebook and moving to the piano. If I want to figure out this song there is no better time than the present. I sit down on the piano bench and lift the wooden cover.

I touch a random key and press it, then I press a few others until I find one that I want to follow the first one. After I pick the second one, I know which key I want to be third, fourth, fifth, sixth...and so on.

I spend five minutes or so playing with those keys, figuring out the speed at which I want to press the keys and how many times I want to repeat a sequence of a few keys before I start singing. When I am finally satisfied, I time it. I even came up with five final lines for the alst verse of the song

"Sixteen seconds." I say to myself. _Sixteen seconds of just the piano, then sing._

It takes a few more minutes to figure out just how I want to do it, but when I do, I just _do_ it.

The presence of a another person is still weighing down the room. "H-hello?" I whisper timidly.

Silence.

I shrug and blame it- for the third time- on paranoia and turn back to the piano and begin. The sixteen second intro, then:

_Suddenly you're shaken with pain  
Shooting down inside you  
And now you're crumbling away  
But this isn't like you  
It doesn't stop 'til it breaks down all you know  
Your breathing locks and your balance goes_

_Ladadadadadadada_  
_It takes a minute_  
_Ladadadadadadada_  
_It doesn't finish_  
_Ladadadadadadada_  
_You're breaking faster_  
_Ladadadadada_  
_You're nothing after_  
_There's nothing after_

_You try to make your escape_  
_But the blows keep on coming_  
_And as the dust clears away_  
_You start to notice something_  
_Each time a piece crashes down into the floor_  
_You're a little lighter than just before_

_Ladadadadadadada_  
_It takes a minute_  
_Ladadadadadadada_  
_It doesn't finish_  
_Ladadadadadadada_  
_You'll see it after_  
_Ladadadadada_  
_When you look backwards_  
_When you look backwards, oh_

_And now your eyes shift from negative spaces_  
_To contours that light up this rough cut design_  
_And now you see it, you're sculpture in motion_  
_You're unfinished art that keeps going, it keeps going_  
_It keeps going and going and going and going.._

A short wave of pride rushes through me. The song I have been working on for a year is complete. I write the name I have decided to give it (Rough Cut) at the top._  
_

I pull the cover over the piano. "Oh!" I exclaim in surprise at the feeling of a hand on my shoulder.

"Hey, kiddo."

"Finnick what are you doing here?" I ask.

"Haymitch was worried about you but he know you wouldn't really want to talk to him, so he asked me to look for you." He answers.

"How did you know to look here?"

"The magazine article the printed a while ago about your diva tantrum." He jokes.

"Ha ha, very funny, Finnick." I say sarcastically.

He just smiles and helps me up off the piano bench. "The Games action is pretty much up, today."

"Really?" I ask him.

"Yeah. They unleashed alligator mutts than killed all but three tributes. Erianwen Tudor from 9 is still alive, though. We are all routing for her."

"That is good. "I say softly.

He gives me a concerned look. "What's new with Snow? And don't lie and say nothing because I can see it in your eyes."

I feel very uncomfortable telling Finnick about Kenton directly so I say, "He is mad about so many people knowing. He says he is going to let it go so long as I am completely obedient. He said that if I am not, then...well, he threatened me with the life of someone very important and dear to me back home. Someone I care for...maybe even much more than I thought I did for a while."

Finnick nods soberly. "That is the same think he is doing to me. He is holding someone very precious to me over my head as well."

"I will never tell you the name of mine...but out of curiosity, will you tell me yours?"

As cliché as it sounds, Finnick eyes begin to glow. "Annie Cresta."

* * *

**Aw, Finnick!**

**Next chapter will have plenty of fianl 3 action.**

**I am soooo sorry I am wayy behind on review replies! I will reply to every single one I get this chapter, promise!**

**Six reviews until this story reaches 500! Thank you so much everybody :)**


	55. Never Say Never

**The Games are ending here!**

**I.**

**Am. **

**Not.**

**A. **

**Justin.**

**Beiber.**

**Mega.**

**Obsessed.**

**Fangirl.**

**The.**

**Song. **

**Title.**

**And. **

**Some.**

**Of.**

**The.**

**Lyrics.**

**Just.**

**Fit.**

* * *

**Never Say Never**

* * *

_I will never say never! (I will fight) _

_I will fight till forever! (make it right) _

_Whenever you knock me down _

_I will not stay on the ground  
_

_-Justin Bieber "Never Say Never"_

* * *

_Ever..._

"Annie Cresta? You mean the girl who gave me this?" I reach into my coat pocket and pull out the silver seashell hair accessory.

Finnick grins wider, "You still have that?"

"Of course. It's pretty, plus, Annie seemed really nice."

"She is. She is wonderful."

We stand there in silence at the back of the Sparkly Tangerine as a long, comfortable silence passes by. "Finnick? May I ask you a stupid and personal question?"

"Of course, kid."

I bite my lip an push my cold hot chocolate away from me before asking my question. "What- what does it feel like? Being in love, I mean. How do you know?"

He chuckles warmly and gets this dreamy, far away look in his eyes. "It is different for everybody. For me it was when every time she walked by I wanted to reach out and grab her hand. Every time she walked away I wanted to hold her back and never let her leave. It was when every time I thought about her I had to catch my breath and I found it hard to speak when I wanted to say something to her. It was when all I could think about was her and everything I did revolved around-" He stops himself and laughs quietly to himself. "I will stop now before I bore you going on and on."

"No!" He looks at me in surprise. "I-I mean, you can go on if you want."

Finnick laughs heartily and shakes his head, "No I think I will stop there. You aren't old enough to hear everything." I roll my eyes because Finnick knows that with all that has happened to me my age does not matter. Even so, I like how he is being like that. I kind of like somebody haivng the, 'protect Ever's little ears' mentality again.

"Come on, kid," He says after a short silence. "We have to get back to the control room. Most of the action may be over, but this is the final three."

"Who exactly is in the final three anyway?"

"Erianwen Tudor and the twins from 8. Kalista and Kaspero Kadair. You know how they were not the greatest in training? Well they fooled everybody. Eri is the only person they have not killed yet."

"What? You meant the weakness was all an act?"

"But of course," Then, "Come on, then." He says in a ridiculously fake British accent. I smile and follow him back up to the control room.

I am surprised to see all of the victors gathered around the screen, including Raewyn, who I thought was stuck in bed all day. "Are you feeling better now?" I ask her.

She shakes her head then says, "No. I still feel like hell; but look." She winces slightly and points to the screen. There, locked in mortal combat, are Eri Tudor and the Kadair twins.

"No way!" I mouth. Raewyn just nods and turns her attention back to the screen. I follow suit and so does Finnick.

It's amazing, really. Eri's ability to hold herself together. The Kadair twins are only fourteen years old and rather short, whereas Eri is a whole year older and much taller. The redhead from 9 pulls her sword out of it's sheath and I note that she is left handed, just like I am. The Kadair both have tan skin, brown hair and hazel eyes and both are right handed. Kalista wields a spear in her hand while Kaspero wields a flail in his. I can see several knives lying around the ground near them. Blood is pouring out of a series of small cut in Eri's face and there are some wounds inflicted on the Kadair twins as well. Eri spits her own blood out of her mouth before lunging at Kaspero Kadair with her sword. He swings his mace in the air and Eri ducks a little to the right and jumps up and grabs his flail. Her hand has such a tight grip on it that it surprises Kaspero just enough to loosen his grip for a split second. This allows Eri enough tiem to pry it from his hands and hit him over the head twice with it before tossing it aside and jabbing her sword into him.

_Boom! _Goes Kaspero's cannon.

I cross my fingers, hoping Kalista's will be next and not Eri's.

Kalista is quite upset that her brother is now dead, and she takes advantage of Eri being unarmed as she tries to pull her blood soaked sword from the dead District 8 tribute's body. Kalista lets out a terrible battle cry that sounds like a cross between a dying cat and a crying child as she lunges her spear at my dead friend's ally. Eri pulls her sword from Kaspero's chest in time to see his twin's spear heading right for her. She let's the sharp tip pass by her and she reach up and grabs it. Kalista, realizing that she is now the one unarmed, can see that this is the end for her. She lets out an agonizing cry before Eri even turns on her heel to point the spear at her. There is a small glint of regret in the blue eyes of the girl from 9 as she drives the spear into the chest of the hazel eyed girl from 8. Her lips move to form words that I cannot quite read before the final cannon goes off.

_Boom!_

Kalista Kadair is dead.

"Congratulations to Erianwen Tudor of District 9! The victor of Panem's seventy-third annual Hunger Games!" The trumpets and the anthem sound for her and she faints. Three hovercrafts come, two for the bodies of the Kadairs and one to patch Eri up for the cameras.

"I can't believe it!" Raewyn cheers happily, despite feeling as bad as she does. She looks around for the nearest person to hug and it happens to be Chaff. "I thought she a bloodbath death for sure!" She kisses Chaff on the cheek and he blushes before she goes to hug my father. She winces as another one of those "fake contractions" hit but then smiles again. Daddy returns the hug and just holds her there for a while.

_Aw, that's really sweet! I can't wait until I get home. I know Snow told me to tread carefully, but...as long as we don't anger Snow Kenton and I will be fine._

Now the only problem I have is the meeting with my "special client" tonight. I wonder who it is, but I pretend I do not care. Whoever it is, it can never be worse than Vice President Cole. I sigh, realizing I ripped up the letter. I excuse myself from the celebration and find a napkin and an envelope in my room. I write, _Tonight will work _on the napkin.

This evening's happiness of Eri's victory should cancel out anything that will happen, right?

I wait downstairs after sending the note to the mansion and a car comes to pick me up about twenty minutes later. The drive to the hotel is long, but feel short because of my lasting joy about Eri's victory.

But as always, with great joy comes great sorrows. I recognize the man waiting for me in the hotel. The man is...

William Hemsworth.

* * *

A cookie to whoever remember who he is ^


	56. Life After You

I hope everybody who feels bad for Ever is happy this chapter.

**The Games are over!**

**To all of those who did not know who William is: Do not kill me. You will find out in this chapter. There is a reason I time-skipped.**

**Don't worry...Ever's life will start to not suck so much verrry shortly.**

* * *

**Life After You**

* * *

_All that I'm after is a life full of laughter_  
_As long as I'm laughing with you_  
_I'm thinkin' that all that still matters is love ever after_  
_After the life we've been through_  
_'Cause I know there's no life after you_  
-_Daughtry "Life After You"_

* * *

~.*~.*

A month later

_Ever..._

I wake up screaming again to the same nightmare that has haunted me for a month now. I grab my pillow and finish my terrified screams into the soft feather-stuffed object. I weep freely and my tears soon soak the pillow. I quickly become disgusted at my tears and throw the pillow to the other side of the room and pull my myriad of blankets over my face as if that will protect me from the nightmares. Of course it doesn't. Even while I am awake the nightmares plague my thoughts. I begin to frantically feel around my bed for another pillow and when I find one I clutch it to my chest and lean my head against it. I have no more tears elft to cry so I just lie there with wide, unblinking eyes. The nightmare- no!- the _memory_. The memory is too terrible. I can't...I can't...I can't seem to move past what happened that night.

_"Hello, Ever." William Hemsworth says. He slowly makes his way over to a caresses my cheek. _

_"You seem pleasantly surprised." He says with an arrogant smirk._

_"Hardly!" I hiss back furiously._

_"Ooh, feisty. Just like my ex-wife- not that I expected any different, the bitch corrupts everybody she meets." __I grit my teeth to keep myself from shouting at him. "Hit a nerve, did I?" He places a hand on my thigh and I slap his arm away. "I believe I _did _hit a nerve, Ms. Abernathy. What, you don't like me calling my ex-wife a bitch? Because she is one. She's. Just. A. Little. Bitch. Just. Like. You."_

_"Stop calling her that."_

_"Of course you think differently," He sneers. "She and your father are practically joined at the hip."_

_"Leave them out of this-" I start before I hear the crack and feel the blood flow to my cheek. "What the hell!"_

_"Shut up and behave!" He snarls. I refuse to let William Hemsworth see me cry. _

_"Oh, and you aren't going to tell your father or Raewyn about this, are you?" I shake my head no in response. "Good. This will be fun then- well, fun for _me _of course. You just get to be a good little whore and do as I say."_

_I bite my lip to keep from crying._

_"You _will_ do as I say, correct?" I nod my head yes. "I can't hear you."_

_"Yes." I whisper._

_"Speak up!"_

_"Yes." I say, barely above a whisper._

_"Louder." He commands._

_"Yes." I snarl rather audibly._

_"Louder!" He screams._

_"Yes! I will!" I holler angrily. "Happy?"_

_He rubs his hands together greedily, "Yes, very happy." His sick commands commence, "Now Ever, take off your skirt."_

_I obey but timidly hold in in front of me. _

_"Now sit down in your chair and toss the skirt aside..."_

I shake my head as if that will erase the memories of my night with Raewyn's ex-husband. Not that it surprises me, but it doesn't. Instead, I begin to feel nauseous and I rush to my bathroom, barely making it to the toilet.

After I am done vomiting I wash my mouth out with cinnamon flavored mouthwash and wipe the sleep from my tired tear-filled eyes. My stomach rumbles to tell me that I need to eat- something I don't think I have done enough of in the past month. I creep downstairs as quietly as I can and go to raid the fridge. Unfortunately, the Abernathy's grocery monkey has been depressed and stuck in bed for a month. *Couth*Me!*cough*

As a result? Nothing decent to eat. The same goes for the freezer and the pantry and all of the cupboards. "Wait..." I say to myself as a glass jar catches my eye. I climb onto the counter to reach the top shelf of the cupboard over the microwave. The hallelujah chorus playing in my head if deafening as my hand reaches into the pantry to grab the jar. Inside it is the one food that will never spoil; honey!

I excitedly go to open the lip but I can't seem to get it open. "Need some help with that, sweetheart?"

"Aw fuuuuuuu-fudge!"

"Nice save, Ever. Here, hand me the jar." I decide to be rebellious and not hand him the jar of honey, but slide it to him on the counter top. He rolls his sleepy eyes and open it no problem. "There, enjoy to your heart's content." I thank him and sit down at the table and begin to devour the honey.

"Is eating the only reason you've decided to emerge?" He asks half-joking half-serious. I don't say anything and this concerns him. It should concern him, I just wish he'd be a bad father and not care for once. "Ever."

"What?" I snap.

"Ever Elizabeth don't use that tone with me." He says calmly.

I drop the subject and look at his eyes. He seems worse off than I am, surprisingly. "When is the last time you've slept?"

"Well the couch isn't that comfortable, but I was sleeping until about two hours ago," He shrugs. "Give or take."

"Why the couch? You have a room you know. And guess what? It has a bed." He doesn't laugh or roll his eyes at my sarcasm like he normally would. He just gives me a thoughtful look as if he is trying to read me. "Daddy?"

"I've been sleeping on the couch sine we got home, Ever. You've stayed shut up in your room all the time and I knew downstairs to eat would be the first thing you would do every time you got up."

"You don't have to do that."

"I know." He says, smiling tiredly at me. "What's up, Ever? This isn't like you." I shake my head and tell him it is nothing. "Don't lie."

"Fine. I just don't fell well, okay?"

He is still sure I am lying, but he buys it anyway. "You haven't even seen Josh or Kenton since you have gotten home; you realize that, right?"

I gasp, "I have not seen Kenton? Daddy are you serious?"

"You should see how your friends are doing. They might cheer you up."

"I might go out tomorrow morning. We need food."

"I can always try shopping if you wa-"

I laughs and wave my hand in front of me. "No, no it is fine. I've got it."

He smiles and says that he thought so. "Go back upstairs, try getting more sleep."

"Okay. Goodnight, Daddy."

"Sleep tight."

"Don't let the bed bugs bite," I continue.

"And if they do,"

"Hit 'em with a shoe." We both chuckle sleepily before I turn and head upstairs.

My bed has never felt so warm and welcoming before. I snuggle into the mattress and pillows, pull the covers over me and begin to close my- _tap tap tap. _"I know you're not asleep." A voice from outside says.

My eyes pop open and I gasp in surprise. I look up at the window and tell the person to go ahead and come in- it can only be one of two people. Well, no. Ivy is gone now so that means- "Kenton!" I gasp happily as I see him lift open the window and sit in the now open window frame.

He grins sadly, "Hey Ev."

I frown, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing you need to worry about." He says sweetly.

"Kenton, come on."

"Really. It's just normal Seam stuff; we'll get through it, we always do." 'We' being his family.

"Right." I whisper. No more Parcel Days. I won last year, Ivy didn't this year.

Kenton sees I am disappointed with myself and leans forward. "No, don't. Stop blaming yourself."

"It's my fault though! It's my fault everybody is starving as bad as they were the before. It's my fault Ivy is dead!"

He reaches for my hand and gently touches it. "Stop telling yourself that, because it isn't true."

I try to smiles but can't. "Kenton?"

"Hm?"

I move over a little bit and offer him a spot next to me. "Would you mind?"

"Not at all." He says quietly before slowly making his way over. I can tell that he isn't wearing shoes by the way his feet sound on the hardwood floor. It is also obvious he was out hunting earlier today. He smells like the forest; I like the forest.

He moves next to me and I lean closer to him. We have often done this, laid there together innocently. He always protected me like a sister but now that I am starting to think of him differently this _feels_ different. This feels different, but the good kind.

I feel him rest an arm on one side of my pillow, leaving enough room me me to either stay on the other side or move closer if I wish. Of course I move closer.

"I just thought you should know what you smell really amazing."

"Um, thanks?"

"What brings you here, anyway?"

"I was bored and thought I'd see if you were awake." I know that is not the truth, but I buy it. I laugh sleepily and move closer to him. I wonder how this feels to him.

* * *

_Kenton..._

I don't think I have ever noticed it before, but she wears perfume. It smells like raspberries; I like raspberries. And apples, her hair smells like apples...and strawberries.

_Damn, now I'm hungry!_

It is a good thing she has her back to me, for I am sure I am blushing. '_Kenton you don't deserve your balls...' _The words of my much younger sister bounce around in my mind. I came here tonight to just see how she is doing. I have been worrying- Josh and I both have been. But is that _really _the reason why?

_No, of course not. _

The real reason is that I hoped that _this_ would happen tonight, like it often does.

"Hey, can I ask you a favor?"

"Anything."

"Can you go shopping with me tomorrow? We're out of food and I need to get a lot so I'll need help carrying it all."

"No problem."

"And Kenton?" She asks, fidgeting with the starfish bracelet around her wrist.

"Yes?"

"Why are you always so willing to do anything I ask you to? It confuses me."

I chuckle, "You don't like it?"

"No! Yes. No. Okay wait. Yes, I like it. I _love _it, it's just...nobody does anything without having a reason. So what's yours?"

I bite my lip. "Well..." I stall and trail off.

She turns to face me, moves her hand to my arm and grabs my wrist. "Kenton," she places her other hand on top of mine. "You can be honest with me."

"I- oh, just never mind." _If she keeps this up I will have to say something to her! I can't just say 'no' to her, it's impossible. I've tried._

"Please? I have something I have to tell you, too but i will only tell if you tell first." She looks up at me innocently until I agree, reluctantly, mind you.

"Ever, I- Ever I-" -can't form the words.

"You love me?" She whispers.

"What gave you that idea?" I ask defensively.

She smiles and whispers, "It's obvious. Tonight at least. Up until now you hid it well."

"I never tried to." I whisper back.

She giggles, "I am glad all you needed to tell me was that you loved me."

"Why is that?" I inquire.

She moves even closer and lays her head on my chest. "That's the same thing I wanted to tell you."

* * *

_Ever..._

I mentally pinch myself. Did we really just confess to each other?

I honestly cannot picture we being with anybody but him- ever! (Oh dear, pun totally _not _intended.) _But Ever just think about it. He can have any girl he wants, he can have girls his own age!_ Why me?

_It isn't because of the fame or the money._ That just isn't like him in the slightest. I_t isn't because of my beauty._ Psh, beauty? What beauty? Not that I'm complaining, but why...why me?

I get chills as he slips his arm around me and pulls me closer. I sigh contently and let him, still quite puzzled.

No.

Freaking.

Way.

This can_not_ be happening. We're three whole years apart and he has always been like my older brother. This is impossible. Then again, a certain Haymitch Abernathy and Rose Fairchild we eight whole years apart, and they did a lot more than just _confess _thier love for one another.

After all, confession doesn't make babies.

Sex does.

* * *

**More about her struggle with the "William Thing" is to come. Tha tis why I time skipped because I wanted to skip ahead to some of the aftermath.**

**No! Ever is not pregnant...**

**...yet.**

**She is just so disgusted about ****what happened with William that she gets sick every time she thinks about it.**

**Ah, yes. Kenever are finally "together." Next chapter may have a little bit of fluff, but will have substance :)**


	57. If A Broken Heart Could Kill

I. Am. Evil.

Kate, you knew this was coming, but everybody else...aws

* * *

**If A Broken Heart Could Kill**

* * *

_If a broken heart could kill, _  
_I'd be long gone, _  
_Ashes to ashes, dust to dust by now, _  
_Six feet under, a tombstone on a hill, _  
_Lyin' there alone, in my new wooden home, _  
_If a broken heart could kill._

_-If A Broken Heart Could Kill_

* * *

_Haymitch..._

Ever comes downstairs at around eight in the morning fully clothed in her usual jeans and t-shirt. "Good morning." I say as she walks by.

"Hey Daddy, is it okay if I have Kenton over after I do shopping today? I'll need his help." She asks innocently.

_Oh don't act so innocent, princess. I saw your little sleeping arrangement with that cradle robber last night. _I trust Kenton, though. To an extent. I know sleeping is the only thing that happened, but I decide to have fun. with it anyway.

"Yeah, sure. Do you want to tell him to come downstairs or do you want me to?" I ask with a smirk. Ever's mouth hangs open in surprise and she begins to stutter unintelligibly. To prolong her embarrassment I walk to the bottom of the stair and call up them, "You _do_ understand that hiding in Ever's room just makes you look guilty, right Kenton?"

"Daddy!" Ever exclaims, her face red.

I smirk and ruffle her hair. "Next time, don't try to be so sneaky, 'kay?" I hear quiet footsteps upstairs and see Kenton shyly peek around the corner then duck back. "I can see you."

"Damn." He mummers.

"I heard that."

"Sorry." He says, starting down the stairs.

I laugh and tell him not to be so shy about swearing before wandering off into another room.

* * *

_Ever..._

"I am so, so, so sorry." I whisper as I pull my jacket on over my shirt. The leaves are now starting to change color and cooler weather comes with it. "Seriously, I didn't know he knew you were up there."

He just laughs it off and says that he thought it was kind of funny. "I think he was just messing with you."

"Maybe." I shrug as we step off of the cobblestone pavement of Victor's Village and onto the coal dust covered streets of the rest of District 12.

I hear Kenton chuckle to himself and I look at him as if you ask why he is laughing. He points to my feet, "You forgot shoes. The coal dust."

I check my feet and notice that I have, in fact, forgotten shoes. "Great, now I have to take a shower tonight."

"You don't take one every day?"

"Of course I do, don't you?"

He sighs, "I wish. We don't have enough m- well there sometimes isn't enough water and soap for everybody. The younger ones first, right?"

I slip my arm into his and say, "That doesn't seem fair. You're the one hunting and trading at the Hob and your parents are the ones working in the mines. The three of you should get first dibs on the water and soap!"

He laughs, "If only it were that sim-" He stops abruptly and grips my arm a little tighter.

"Kenton?"

"Run when I say, but don't look too suspicious." He whispers urgently .

"Wh-"

"Just. Do it." He pauses and whispers loudly "Run!"

He lets go of my arm and we take off through a small stand of trees, almost tripping over downed logs and getting smacked in the face by plenty of branches. When we are almost to the other end, I run into several vines with thorns and they scratch one side of my face. I feel dots of the warm red liquid form on my face just before we stop running. Both of us are out of breath and Kenton is using a tree for support and leaning his head against it, eyes closed.

"What was back there?" I ask in between attempts for air.

"Peacekeeper." He says a little too quickly.

I narrow my eyes, "You have never been afraid of Peacekeepers before."

"This is different. The Peacekeeper...I saw him last night."

"What do you mean?" I ask worriedly. That can only mean one thing...

"I didn't tell you the truth about why I showed up at your window last night...I wasn't just 'in the neighborhood.' I was out hunting and as I was climbing over the fence, a Peacekeeper looked over. I ducked back in time- I think I did, at least- but the Peacekeeper caught me later. I ran until I got to town and the Peacekeeper was still trying to find me- I could see him, but he couldn't see me. If I turned the other way and went to the Seam, I would've had to wander into his line of vision. Victor's Village was the safer bet...it was closer, anyway." Then he just shrugs nonchalantly like it was no big deal.

"Oh my gosh! Are you sure that was him?" I exclaim.

He nods, "Yeah, it was him alright. He recognized me; he glared."

"Why didn't he come after you?"

"In the middle of the day? He knows that the Peacekeepers around here aren't terribly strict and wouldn't care like he does. No, he is probably hoping to catch me at night again." He scoffs, "Good luck with that. Cray will tell him to just let it go."

"No hunting until this all blows over." I demand in a bitchiest tone I can muster up.

"Since when did you become my mother?" He teases.

I lift my head up to face him and open my mouth to speak, but he beats me to it. "Ever! What happened to your face?" He moves to stand in front of me and he gently touches my face where the thorns broke skin. Little red dots of my blood decorate his hand when he pulls it away. "Vines?" He guesses.

"Yeah. It's fine, don't worry about it though."

"You have to get that cleaned up, it might get-"

"Kenton, seriously?" I give him a 'look.'

"Right, Hunger Games."

"Exactly." I smile and stand up straight to kiss his cheek. "If I can survive the arena, then I can get by with a few scratches on my face." A moment later I giggle, "You're blushing. Are you embarrassed I kissed you?"

"N-no." He stammers.

"Did you like it, then?"

"Y-yes."

"Good." I say before reaching into my pocket to make sure my wallet is still there. "Great, I didn't forget the money...I need you to hold it."

"Why?"

"Because I am a teenage girl and above all things, we absolutely love sweets. I need to go to the bakery and get bread- just. Bread. No sweets."

"Teenage girls are strange." He comments before taking the wallet and stuffing it in his pocket.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

While Ever is out grocery shopping, I decide to attempt some sort of cleaning. By that I mean my room; it is a disaster zone. Okay, not really, but there's this one messy corner that is just _pissing me off_.

_What the hell, Haymitch? All of the lost items in Panem must end up here! Oh look, Ever's socks with the turtles on them. Those have been missing forever! Okay, a year and a half._

I lazily toss them behind me.

_Still._

I continue to rummage through the items in the messy corner, surprised to see the majority of it is Ever's with a few things that use to belong to Rose. It's pretty shocking how I can so calmly think about her now without having to catch my breath or grab a drink. Nearing the last few things in the corner, my hand touches a smooth, cold surface. I grab the thing I touched and recognize the plain blue hardcover book.

Rose's journal that she kept almost obsessive compulsively.

I open the front cover before slamming it shut. After Rose's death, I would read that journal obsessively, just hoping to feel close to her again. It took a few years for me to finally decide to throw it off into some random direction and never look back. I never had the heart to just throw it away, so throwing it aside seemed to be the best thing to do.

But I know that if I open it up again I will run off to find a bottle and I won't do that to Ever again. What is written in that little blue book is nothing but happy memories for me. But they are memories that I cannot stand to see described in my Rose's own words again. With a sigh, I clsoe the book and decide to give it to Ever at some point. She might want to know more about her mom.

Something else soon catches my eye. Rose's favorite book, Leo Tolstoy's Anna Karenina. I never could manage to get past page twenty of that book- it bored me to no end and besides, Rose had already told me how it ends so there was never a reason to finish the book. Perhaps another reason I let it lie there for almost fourteen years now is because I couldn't look at it without thinking about her.

After a moment of mental debate, I bend down and pick up the book. I lazily leaf through the pages, not really planning to read it or anything, just looking. I almost don't notice the folded piece of notebook paper folded neatly between two pages near the back. I pull it out of the book and see right away that it is on Rose's handwriting and it is written in the usual cheery purple pen.

I bite my lip before reading it out of curiosity. As I read, it is creepy how I can hear her voice so clearly:

_Dear Katharine,_

_I shouldn't be writing to you, Katie, I know that. You have been dead for nearly two years now and I have full well come to terms with that. But Katie, I have a secret, a very important secret. I know what you would say if you were here- "Tell Haymitch, Rose!" But you see Katie, I can't. I'm keeping a secret from him that I really really have to tell someone._

_If I don't tell someone, I am going to spoil the surprise and tell him before I want him to find out- and that wouldn't be any fun, now would it?_

_Katie, I am glad that I have you to keep my secrets. Are you ready, Katie? Okay, here it is: I'm pregnant! I know what you're thinking, "Rose! It hasn't even been four months since you had Ever and you're knocked up again?"_

_Don't be so judgmental Katharine, okay? Anyway Katie, I'm not telling Haymitch yet because I don't want him to know until I start showing- that will happen after the Games this year. That will be a nice surprise for him after having to watch twenty-four kids fight to the death, won't it? I can't wait until the Games are over this year. _

_The reapings are tomorrow, Katie. I'm worried. If Sage or Acacia are reaped I will probably forget everything but the promise I made to them as kids and volunteer. If I am reaped, they might not hold up their end of the promise and I will be sent to die..._

_But like you always used to say, let's not talk like pessimists. I wish I could be optimistic right now, but I just can't._

_I'm sorry, but Haymitch is coming to bed now. I'd better hide this before he sees it. _

_Love always,_

_Rose Marie_

I stare at the letter to Katharine for a moment before the realization that Rose was pregnant hits me. Rose was pregnant the day before the reaping. Which means she was pregnant when she went into the arena. Which means-

"No!" I shout, punching the wall with all of the anger and strength I have. My fist makes a hole in the wall but I don't care. I punch it again and create another hole before burying my face in my hands. I need a drink. I need ten drinks. But that can wait until I have cried, screamed and punched the wall enough.

Rose is dead. I can live with that. But I let our baby who didn't even get a chance to live die. For that, I will never forgive myself.

* * *

I have missed drunk Haymitch and decided he needed something to send him on another tailspin.


	58. Breathe

**Rated Pg-13 for: Kissing, Kenton's semi-sexist comments and mentions of OCD, use of big words, Haymitch's swearing, Ever's swearing, Haymitch, Haymitch's drinking, more of Haymitch's drinking and, uh...Haymitch.**

* * *

**Breathe**

* * *

_And we know it's never simple,  
Never easy.  
Never a clean break, no one here to save me.  
_

_-Taylor Swift "Breathe"_

* * *

_Ever..._

"Kenton, pass me the bag of apples," I say, pointing to the bag of red apples. "Thanks." I open the fridge and throw the apples on the same shelf they always go on.

"What is it with girls and organization?"

"I'm not _that_ organized."

"Have you _seen _your bookshelf? All of the books are organized alphabetically by genre and within the genre alphabetically by author and within the category of author, date of original publication. What kind of freak of nature does that?"

I laugh, "_You're _freak of nature maybe?"

He shrugs," Could be worse. You could be one of those spermatophobic people that wear anti-bacterial gloves to go outside and Lysol the air."

"What's spermatophobic?"

"It means you're afraid of germs."

"Oh. Damn it Kenton where'd you learn words that I don't know?"

"When you're bored and you're alone in your geeky younger brother's room you find things to read."

I laugh at Kenton's comment about his younger brother. He is the fourth out of seven children, four boys and three girls. His two oldest siblings, Kaleb and Yeva died in a mine accident just over three years ago when they were twenty-one years old. Behind the twins is Kenton's oldest living sibling Kasper. At 18, he works in the mines with his mother to support the family. (Mr. Rainriver was injured too badly to ever work in the mines again.) Next is Kenton, age 16 and a half, less than two years away from going into the mines. Eleven year old Keegan is next. Keegan is the biggest nerd in the world (except maybe me, but Kenton is sure Keegan is worse.) The first girl after all of the boys is Yadira, who just turned eight. The youngest, and Kenton's favorite siblings, is two year old Yuliana.

I have voiced my jealously to Kenton on more occasion than one. I have always wanted to have a bunch of siblings but unfortunately, that never happened.

I lift up my head just in time to see him glancing away from the clock. "4:30. I promised Kaspar I'd help him hunt yesterday; mostly because he can't."

"I said no hunting until the Peacekeeper business quiets down. That was like, earlier today." I say worriedly.

"You don't have to worry about me." He says softly, gently running his fingers through my hair. At first I want to cringe. The Capitol men do that to me, every single one of them, before we- well, yenno.

But I don't. I discover that I don't mind him touching my hair, as long as it's him and not some forty-something man. Slowly, I open mouth and say, "I know. But I still worry."

He chuckles and steps just a little closer to me. "Don't," He kisses my forehead and smiles.

Am I an impulsive person? Because what I do next is so not Ever-like. I grab him and stand on my toes to kiss him, right on the lips. He is surprised at first but eventually relaxes and returns it, slowly wrapping his arms around my waist. I can't believe how much I am actually enjoying this. We break the kiss for air after a little while longer.

"Well, well sweetheart."

We gasp and turn around to face my father who is standing in a corner leaning against the door frame and teasingly clapping his hands. I can tell by the way he is leaning and by the look in his eyes that he is drunk. Kenton seems to notice it too.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

I know I am in major trouble. As soon as Kenton leaves to go hunting with her older brother Ever angrily stomps over to me. "What are doing drinking again?" She shouts.

"Ever you wouldn't understand." I slur.

"Oh? Try me." Ever folds her arms across her chest and shifts most of her weight to her left side.

"You and your mother have to same pose when you are trying to be intimidating. It never worked for her so I doubt it will for for you."

"Then just tell me! Tell my why you are drinking again."

I shake my head and tell her no. I might be drunk but I am not wasted just yet. Unless she catches me wasted I will never tell her about her little brother or sister. Does it really concern her? Maybe it concerns her a little, but it still isn't something she needs to be thinking about. It's my problem to deal with, not Ever's.

"Why not? What is it, Daddy is it something about the arena?" She scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Well I had to live through the arena too! I was friends with Asia, Zayna, Colton and Zephyr. I had to mentor two of my friends last year and they died!"

_Oh that's it, you little- _A heated argument ensues:

"You don't think I was friends with any of the kids I mentored my first few years? The boy I had to watch die sat next to me in school since I was four! And you have no. _Fucking_. Idea! You have no idea about what happened to me in the arena! I can drink those memories away if I want to!"

"At least you weren't forced to sell your body to men more than three times your age!"

"That's not fair, Ever!" I argue.

"Is it, Daddy? Is it? Or do you just not want to think about that right now? Face it! You can deny it all you want and push it away but it is still there. I. Am. A. Capitol. Whore!"

"Shut up! What the hell is wrong with you?" I shout, immediately regretting it.

Ever inhales sharply and just stands there are stares. "You really _are_ just a drunken bastard."

"Ever Elizabeth-"

"Don't you 'Ever Elizabeth' me! You want to know what the hell is wrong with me? You are! You're drunk all the time when I need you the most, you're drunk all the time when I just want to talk to you and- you're usually drunk all day every day! Gah- I don't- I don't get it. You were doing so well without alcohol. Why start again? Actually, why start at all?"

_Snap! _That's it. "Guilt, Ever! Guilt! The guilt of living while three kids from the same District had to die. The guilt of knowing forty-seven other children- more than _half _my age or younger- died bloody, gruesome deaths. And what about the children _I _killed? I never even bothered to learn their names so I could apologize to their families like you did. I just...killed them. Dammit!- and the guilt of knowing I caused my mother's, brother's and Natalie Taylor's deaths..." I bury my face in my hands and the words just slip out. "...Rose, the baby, _you_. Neither you, nor Rose would have stepped foot in the arena if you weren't associated with me. All because of my selfish desire to want to live at sixteen. All because of an axe and a forcefield."

"B-baby? What baby?" Ever stutters.

I gasp and cover my mouth before taking a swig of vodka. "N-never mind that."

"Dad. Was- was Mom-?"

"Ever-"

"No! Dad, Mom was pregnant when she went into the arena, wasn't she?"

"Ever-"

"Stop stalling. Answer me or I swear on my life I will kick you so hard in the groin-"

"Yes," I sigh. "Rose was two months pregnant when she went into the arena."

Ever freezes before glaring daggers at me. "Why didn't you stop her? You could have stopped her from volunteering for her cousin. You could've- she was _pregnant_! Why didn't you-? Why-? How could you-? Monster!"

"I didn't know!"

"Bullshit! I fucking hate you!"

"Don't use that language with me young lady!"

"I'll use whatever language I want! It's total bullshit that you didn't know! Why else would you be drinking again?"

I slam the bottle down on the counter. "Maybe I just found out for myself earlier today. Maybe I found _this_-" I hold up Rose's journal. "-in my bedroom this morning. _Possibly _curiosity got the better of me. Here-" I toss it at Ever. "-take it. I don't want to see it ever again."

She catches it with a blank expression on her face before slowly placing it on the table. "You- this morning you-? You saw the- but why would she not tell you? I mean, it _was _yours, right?"

"Oh course it is- _was_- mine. Rose wasn't a whore-"

Ever gasps, offended. "You as-"

"Oh no no no sweetheart, I didn't mean it like that!"

"I know." She whispers. "Go on," She says just a little louder.

"Of course it was mine. She kept it a secret for you."

She can't quite wrap her head around what that means. "What?"

I sigh, pick up the bottle and slowly move it to my mouth to take a sip. "If you taste on single drop of alcohol I swear I will hate you forever."

"Fine." I put it down. "Happy?"

"I still hate you, but go on."

"Rose wanted to keep it a surprise until she was showing, so around month three or month four. But, Sage was reaped and Rose volunteered to save her. She didn't tell me she was pregnant then because she what I would do."

Ever nods because she also knows what I would have done. It's sad how my thirteen year old can predict me like that. She walks across the kitchen to me and throws her arms around me in a hug. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." I slur.

"No. I- I have to apologize for- for everything I said. I don't hate you."

"I know sweetheart." I say calmly.

"And I didn't mean to call you a drunken bastard." Her voice breaks and she begins to cry.

I pull her a little closer to me and push her hair from her face. "Look at me, baby girl. You don't need to apologize for anything. You're right, I shouldn't have handled it by drinking again-"

Ever shakes her head, "No no I guess the drinking is okay. It could be worse. You could be beating me, right?"

"Right." I mumble.

"Plus, you're a funny drunk. It can be amusing sometimes." Ever shrugs before pulling away. "Just uh...take a few showers a day, okay? You smeel like liquor. Like, a _lot _like liquor."

We both laugh half-heartedly at Ever's attempt at dry humor. "Did you and Kenton _seriously _make out in the kitchen?"

"Maybe." She giggles.

"No sex. _Ever_, Ever!"

"What's with naming me 'Ever' anyway? I mean it's common word in the English language and it's really hard not to use it."

"Ever." I say sternly. "No sex. Got it?"

"Why? You and Raewyn have sex."

I blush, "We're adults so it's okay. You, however, are a thirteen year old girl and he is a sixteen year old boys. Teenage boys only have _one _thing on their minds!"

Ever looks up at me innocently, "What is that one thing Daddy?"

"I refuse to say that word any more today."

She laughs, "Kenton isn't like that, Daddy. He's different." She walks over to the table and grabs Rose's little blue book. She stares at it before offering it to me. I shake my head and extend my palm to tell her to take it away.

"I meant what I said about never wanting to see it again. Take it to your room and hide, stuff it in one of the hall closets or one of the fifty-octillion empty rooms around here."

Ever doesn't think I am being serious. "Do you mean it? I mean, you- you loved Mom."

"I did. I still do, but I already know everything that is in there. I'll just be dwelling in the past if I have it; you should keep it. You might find out you and your mom have a lot more in common than you ever thought- pun totally intended."

She grins and gives me one last hug before leaving the kitchen. I pick up the bottle and take a swig before she pops her head back in, "Oh! And Daddy?"

"Yes, Ever?"

"Let's not fight like that again. We're all each other's got." She smiles sadly.

I smile back at her and say that I wasn't planning on it. I start to say 'goodnight,' but it isn't even five thirty yet.

* * *

_Ever..._

I go to my room after making up with my father and I cry. _I never want to fight with him again._

"Mom was pregnant. She-she was- she was pregnant." I stop crying and wipe my eyes. "That's crazy."

I shake my head and open the journal to the first page and read.

* * *

**Katniss and Peeta's Games are coming in one chapter :) (So the one after next.) Next chapter is Eri and raewyn visit for the Victory Tour. Yay!**

**oh! And some Kenever and Raemitch action :P**

**hehehe ****Ever vs. **Katniss ...The Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny right there!


	59. Superman

**Kate, enjoy this chapter :)**

* * *

**Superman**

* * *

_It may sound absurd:but don't be naive  
Even Heroes have the right to bleed  
I may be disturbed:but won't you conceed  
Even Heroes have the right to dream  
It's not easy to be me  
_

_-Five For Fighting "Superman"_

* * *

Five months later...

_Ever..._

I wake early on a Friday morning to get ready for today. Today is the first day or Erianwen Tudor's victory tour and I am so excited to meet her. Not only that, but Raewyn will be coming along, too. How far along was she when we left the Capitol? Six months, I think? Okay, now add on six more months to that...

Oh my gosh! Raewyn had the baby a few months ago! "Eep!" I squeal excitedly, running to my bathroom to shower and fix my hair how I like it. To pass the time, I pull the earphone out of the music player Beetee gave me so it can play out. I put it on random shuffle and the exact song I felt like listening to comes on. Valerie by Amy Winehouse *smiles!* Naturally, I begin to sing along:

_Well sometimes I go out by myself_  
_And I look across the water_  
_And I think of all the things, what you're doing_  
_And in my head I paint a picture_

_Cos since I've come on home,_  
_Well my body's been a mess_  
_And I've missed your ginger hair_  
_And the way you like to dress_  
_Won't you come on over_  
_Stop making a fool out of me_  
_Why don't you come on over Valerie?_

_Valerie, Valerie, Valerie_

I dance in place like a total idiot and it is a good thing nobody is watching. I slip my left arm through my black dress and keep singing along:

_Did you have to go to jail,_  
_Put your house up for sale, did you get a good lawyer?_  
_I hope you didn't catch a tan,_  
_I hope you'll find the right man who'll fix it for ya_  
_And are you shopping anywhere,_  
_Changed the color of you hair, are you busy?_  
_And did you have to pay that fine_  
_You were dodging all the time, are you still dizzy?_

I stop singing and gasp, realizing my perfume is missing. The chorus of the song plays while I run out of my room with my hair half straightened. I run into my father's room without bothering to knock. "Have you seen my perfume anywhere?"

There is still some shaving cream on his face and a razor in his right hand. "Yeah, dining room table."

"Why would it be there!"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it was because you were freaking out because you were going to meet Kenton in town yesterday? You brought it downstairs and left it on the table while you were running out." He grabs a bottle and takes a sip. I have adjusted to his taking up the bottle again.

"Thanks. You'd better not be drunk when District 9 gets here."

He rolls his eyes before going back into the bathroom to finish shaving. "I won't," He calls from there. "Morning relaxation."

"Whatever." I mumble, running back down the hall to finish straightening my hair. I come in just as the last line is starting:

_Why don't come over Valerie? _

Criminal by Fiona Apple is the next song on random shuffle. I let it play while I go downstairs to get my perfume. It has to be _the best _perfume in the world. It smells like berries. I'm not sure if every guy likes it, but Kenton loves it- he can hardly keep within five feet away from me when I wear it.

I run the perfume upstairs and finish my makeup before spraying the berry scented amazingness three times. Satisfied, I turn my music player off and leave it on the bathroom sink.

"You done getting pretty for your _girlfriend_?" I tease, stopping at his open bedroom door.

"I will cut you." He says, walking out of his room to join me.

I smile innocently, "Come on, we don't want to be late for something in our _own _District."

Daddy smiles and just follows me out the front door. In most other Districts, the victors have cars take them to the Justice Building. But my father has always declined the service and I do the same. Besides, walking is more fun and relaxing. The only thing I don't like about walking from home to the Justice Building is that we have to walk through the one part of town where the gropers, the muggers and the pickpockets live. (Not that they'd mess with a victor,) but still.

"You know Raewyn has to have had the baby by now, right?" I say casually.

He pauses for a split seconds before he facepalms. "Oh, you're right! Have you heard anything about it?"

"No, what about you? Any idea about girl or boy?"

He shakes his head, "No clue. But I know she was hoping for a girl."

"Can we walk faster? That guy over there is looking at me funny." I whisper.

"Sure, but you know you can just punch him in the face, right?"

"I don't like violence."

"And you _won _the Hunger Games?" He teases.

"Daddy-" I begin.

"You're right, you're right." He admits before quickening his pace like I quickened mine.

The train can be heard pulling into the station even from the Justice Building. All of the miner's have gotten the day off work to see Panem's newest victor. I chuckle to myself, knowing how Eri must feel aside from the fear and the guilt. She probably feels really stupid that people are making such a big deal out of her. That's how I felt and I have a feeling Eri and I will get along well.

The entire District is gathered and I see Tanith Rudo, the escort District 12 recycled to District 9, lead the stylists, Eri and her three mentors to the stage where President Undersee is sitting between Effie and my father who is between myself and Mayor Undersee. The mayor gets up and introduces the new victor to the District. I see Ivy's family, still grieving, standing at the front. A stabbing pain shoots through my heart for just a moment at the realization that I have not yet spoken to Josh since I failed to bring his sister home.

Clapping from the District 12 residents begins half-heartedly as Eri steps up to the microphone. "Er, hey. I'm really terrible at giving speeches so please just bear with me. I promise, this will be short. Well, to stop with the babbling and to get to the point, I know that you all want me to say that I wish I'd died instead of your tributes. But I also know that you know I can never say that. I am grateful that I am alive. I shouldn't. Simple as that. But I do wish your tributes didn't have to die so I could live. Anon Anthony- "Ant" as I've heard Ivy and Ever Abernathy call him- said only five words to me, "Hey, you dropped your napkin." Yes, I remember those five words. I found it rather kind of him to tell me that. As your your female tribute...well the Games are mandatory viewing, right? You all must have seen Ivy and I. That wans't just a strategic move. I was really her friend and I became rather close to her. I know that my district partner and I were originally plotting to kill her...but that was Baines manipulating me. Once Baines was dead I actually felt compelled to protect ivy. To- to protect her almost like a sister. I am confused as to why I got the right to live but she didn't. Again, I will say that I am happy that I am the one standing here today. But I wish Ivy could be standing in the crowd with the rest of you; where she belongs. To the families who lost thier children- I'm truly, truly sorry.

That speech was longer than I anticipated...I'm sorry. Thank you." Eri nods her head ever so slightly like I did after most of my victory speeches.

Surprisingly, nobody claps. Perhaps they are stunned that somebody said something nice about their fallen tributes. Not only nice, but sincere. They are used to Careers gloating; but not this year.

I shake my head. This isn't fair to Eri, she deserves applause. So I start it by slowly clapping and Effie and Mayor Undersee follow like lemmings. Some of the younger children in the crowd clap too. Daddy is a little slow to catch on so he confusedly claps along. I catch a glimpse of Kenton, standing with Josh, separated from the rest of Ivy's family. Kenton nudges the younger boy and the two follow my lead as well. I grin widely and wink at Kenton and he smiles and winks back. I'm pretty sure the Capitol cameras caught that, but I don't care. As long as I tread carefully where Snow asks me too he will be fine.

Mayor Undersee steps up and says a few final words before Peacekeepers rather forcibly usher everybody into the Justice Building. I look behind me and see Raewyn and Eri walking side-by-side. She seems to have a motherly relationship with her, which I find really sweet. I recognize the other two victors from 9 that came along- Isis Strom, who very much looks like she could be from the Seam, and Cruz Marcello, a really creepy looking guy.

Oh don't give any of that BS about judging people. Cruz Marcello has got to be the creepiest man alive...that I haven't slept with at least.

I mentally kick myself for making that joke in my head.

"Victors line up!" Barks a Peacekeeper. I roll my eyes and begrudgingly line up like we're supposed to. Behind the Peacekeeper's back, I show him a rather rude one-fingered gesture.

I hear giggles from the District 9 victors- at least the three females. Cruz just rolls his eyes.

"Ever!" Daddy hisses.

"Sorry." I mouth.

The Peacekeepers finally leave. My father and I are supposed to introduce ourselves with our first name, last name and the Games we won, but since the Peacekeepers are gone...

"Who cares about that stupid introducing tradition, right?" I say in a surprisingly business-like tone. Just to be polite, I look Eri in the eyes adn smile before extending my arm, "I'm Ever. Erianwen, right?"

She shakes my hand, "J-just Eri." She says timidly.

"Nice to meet you, Eri."

"N-nice to meet you too, Ever." I can tell she is afraid, just like I was. Her curly red hair is tied up in a bun and I can tell she wishes she could take it down to play with her hair. Her stylists probably told her not to. _Screw that._

"Here," I say, walking right up to her. Despite her being sixteen (or has she turned seventeen since the Games?) I am just a little bit taller than her. I reach behind her head to find whatever is holding her hair up and I pull it out of her hair. "Now you can fidget with your hair. I know you want to." I add a warm grin to try and make her feel welcome.

Eri seems surprised at first but then her fingers slowly move to one of her curls that are now handing how they should. She pulls on it and it bounces back up. "Thanks, Ever. R-really."

I wonder why none of the other victors are talking right now. I look up and see Daddy smiling at Eri and I. Isis Strom is grinning, too. "You don't have to be so shy. I don't bite, promise...okay well I don't bite _often_."

Eri laughs, "Raewyn's right; you're funny."

"Oh, she talks about me, does she?" I look at the blonde pointedly.

She has something in her arms and she shifts it before admitting that she did a little bit, "Just so Eri wouldn't be a nervous wreck. I pretty much told her who to talk to and who to avoid like The Plague."

I am the only one that catches the joke about The Plague. Everybody else just looks at us funny. "The Plague? Black Death? Killed like, half the world's population in the Middle Ages?"

Nothing.

"Meh, I figured. Anybody else hungry?" I say quickly.

"Starving." Eri admits with a slight giggle.

"Famished." Isis says.

"A little." Says Cruz.

I'm surprised that Daddy and Raewyn haven't said anything to each other yet. I hope nothing happened between them. I don't think anything happened...maybe they're just waiting until we all sit down.

Mayor Undersee walks in the room and smiles. "Sorry I'm late, everyone. Peacekeepers wanted something." He offers everybody seats. Cruz and Isis sit down next to each other and Eri moved far down from them and on the other side. I sit down across from Eri and Raewyn is beside her.

"Long time no see, Haymitch." She says as my father sits down across from her.

"Too long." He agrees.

She sighs and mumbles to herself, "I wish I'd of dragged Zaylie or Taivas along this year. I could really use their help."

I drop my forkful of salad when I remember something. "Oh my gosh! Raewyn, you had the baby by now, right?'

She smiles proudly and looks down at the tiny thing in her arms. "Yeah. She's three months old today."

I see Daddy has to catch himself before he can anything. He is still feeling guilty about my little brother or sister. Not that I blame him, it's just... "What did you finally decide to name her? I remember you telling me you had at least fifty different ideas."

Raewyn laughs, "Yes. For three days her name was Talia Sarah but then I decided I didn't like it and Sarah is also _my _middle name so that wouldn't work. Now she's Trinity Kate; I've always liked that name for a girl, but William would never have it." She takes a sip of water, "The freedoms of a divorced woman are ah-_mazing_!"

"They sound awesome!" I chuckles before getting all 'oh my freaking gosh it's a baby!' again. "That's a pretty name. It'll even sound cute when she's in trouble. "

"Exactly, that's what I was trying to do. All of my other children have sort of older middle name they wouldn't want called out in public."

"Yeah. Like _Elizabeth._"

* * *

_Haymitch..._

"Exactly, that's what I was trying to do. All of my other children have sort of older middle name they wouldn't want called out in public."

"Yeah. Like _Elizabeth._"

"Hey, hey wait. I thought you didn't mind your middle name?"

"I don't," Ever says. "It's just much older than 'Ever.'"

"It's better than my middle name." The new redhead victor pipes up. "Mine's gay."

"It can't be that bad." Ever says.

"No, seriously it's gay."

"It can't be gay unless it's Krispin or Peppers. With a 'Z.'"

She shakes her head. "No, I mean it's gay. My middle name is gay. G-A-Y-E. Gaye."

"Oh, Gaye with and 'E.' Should've said that earlier. I feel bad for you." Ever says.

"Yeah."

I smile at the girls, glad they are getting along. Ever has never had many girl friends. Ivy was the only one and now...well, not anymore. I used to be okay with her only hanging out with guys, but now that Kenton Rainriver is more than _just _her friend, it is a good thing she is connecting with another young girl.

I let Ever and Eri talk about whatever it is they want to talk about until Mayor Undersee taps his glass. "It is about time we gave a toast to Ms. Tudor, I believe." He raises his glass. "To Ms. Erianwen Tudor, Panem's newest victor. I, and I am sure the rest of District 12s people, would like to thank you for being so compassionate about our fallen tributes. Your humbleness left the crowd shocked. And thank, you Ever, for getting everybody to give the applause. Ms. Tudor, the applause was well deserved. To Erianwen."

"To Erianwen." Madge Undersee repeats.

"To Erianwen." Cruz says begrudgingly. He doesn't want to be here, that's it obvious.

I just raise my glass and smile.

"Good job, Eri." Raewyn says, taking a sip from hers.

"Thanks, but...it's really no big deal, I- I don't take pride in my victory." She looks down, ashamed.

Ever shakes her head, "You should never be prideful. But you also shouldn't be ashamed."

"I'm not." Eri lies.

"You can talk to me, you know. We're in the same boat...would you like to step outside so we can talk?"

"Are we allowed?" She asks.

"Absolutely," Ever says standing up. Eri follows suit. "We'll be back." Says Ever.

_I know. _How did I get a daughter as wonderful as her? She's so compassionate.

"Ever _is _wonderful, isn't she?"

And what is it with women and mind-reading? "She is."

I check the clock for a second before looking back to her. "Are you leaving tonight of staying until morning?"

"We're all to tired to walk back to the train," She laughs. "So I guess we're staying. Why, did you have something in mind?"

"No, I was just-"

She laughs again and says, "When I make a suggestive comment, you're supposed to say 'yes.'"

* * *

_Ever..._

Eri follows me out of the Justice building and we walk through the dusty streets of District 12. The sun has not yet began to set but the streets are nearly empty. I'll bet we look like an odd pair, walking side by side in expensive dresses while anybody else out is wearing torn jeans and dirty shirts.

"So what's up, Eyre?"

"Eyre?" She asks.

"Yeah like the book, Jane Eyre. And it's a nickname."

"Oh...right."

"So, what's up?"

"What do you mean?"

I sigh. "Hold on a sec, wait here," I command when we are in front of the Mellark's bakery. I go inside and tiptoe to the counter. Luckily, the youngest son, Peeta is there. I hate it when Payne or Pryor are working. They're such jerks.

Peeta turns around and is surprised at first but smiles warmly when he recognizes me. A lot of people would assume we are friends, but we're not. He is just the nice kid I buy bread from and I am the rich victor kid that pretends not to notice when I give him too much money for the bread. "You look awfully...girly...today."

"District 9 is here for the Victory Tour. I'm having the new victor take a nice leisurely stroll with me."

"There's a hidden meaning behind that." Peeta says with a grin.

I shrug, "Is there?"

"I can tell by the way you said it, kid."

"Well fine," I say. "You caught me and there _is _a hidden meaning behind that. I know you aren't going to ask but let's just say that I am giving her the chance to talk about certain things that she needs to talk about away from prying ears."

"That's rather charitable. Not that I'd expect any different."

"Thanks Pita Bread."

"I told you not to call me that." He chuckles.

"And I told you I don't care. Fill up a bag with cookies, please. A really big bag."

His eyes widen. "Are you sure the two of you will be able t-"

"We're teenage girls, Peeta. Just do it."

"Right away." He gets a really big bag and pours at least thirty-five cookies into it. "That'll be-" he looks around cautiously. "You know what?" He whispers.

"What?"

"Take them for free."

I shake my head and empty out my change purse. "Take all of this."

"But this is way too mu-"

"I really don't care, Peeta. I don't need it all."

He nods and collects the multitude of coins. "Thank you so much."

"Don't mention it." I say, leaving the bakery with the cookies. I rejoin Eri and show her the bag. "You haven't had cookies until you've had some of Peeta and Ajax Mellark's cookies."

She doesn't bother asking who Peeta and Ajax are, she just takes one of the chewy cookies and devours it. "Oh my go- these are amazing!" She takes five more and stuffs her face with them one at a time before finally realizing I am still standing here. "I'm sorry, that was rude."

"Don't worry about it. So to restate my question, what's up? What's eating you?"

She sighs, "My victory, Ever. Is it even worth it?"

"Yes. You're alive." I motion for her to sit down on an upside down crate.

"But all of the memories! All of the people I've seen die, the three or four I actually killed...I wake up screaming every night because Baines, Ivy, Cassi and Kaspero and Kalista seem to come back from the dead and blame everything on me! It's like I'm their scapegoat; and worst part is- the worst part is I know I deserve it. I know it's my fault they are all dead and I feel bad, I really do, but I'm still here and I am happy that I am. I never wanted to die in the arena but I never wanted to become a killer, either."

I squeeze her shoulder reassuringly. "Eyre, look. It isn't your fault. So what if you had to kill the four that you did? They were trying to kill you first. It's not murder if it is self-defense- that is how my father justified it to me after I won. If you'd have died, the world would be missing out. You seem like a really nice person and I am glad the arena has left an emotional impact rather than a hollow shell."

She scoffs, "A hollow shell sounds better."

"But it isn't. Once you become hollow, nothing matters. Not yourself, not your family, not your friends...but when you're hollow, you want to filled with emotion. Have you ever seen the morphling addicted victors of District 6? There are a few from most every District, I am sure, but there are quite a few in 6."

"Yes, I have."

"That's what happens. They become hollow and they want to feel full again. So what they do is they do anything to feel emotions again. But then they become addicted and cannot stop giving themselves artificial feelings."

"Why are you so smart?"

"I grew up with Haymitch Abernathy, Panem's resident drunk...and I've hung around victors since I was born."

"Right...Ever?"

"Yeah Eyre?"

"President Snow came to my house earlier this summer."

I gasp, "He did what?"

"He...he came to my house, and he said something about how I need to thank you for taking my punishment for me."

"Punishment? What punishment?"

"The punishment hat comes from winning the Games. Snow said that you have already taken it up and nobody wants me to do it, too."

I think for a second before realizing what he was hinting at to Eri. "That bastard!"

"What is the punishment?" She asks, her face going pale.

"Don't worry about it, okay? Like Snow said, I have already carried the burden." _That sick, disgusting...disgusting...he's trying to paint me as Eri's Messiah! That's so...so...that's disgusting!_

"Do you want to go back to the Justice building now?"

I smile. "We could do that...or we can just sit here and finish the cookies first."

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea." Eri agrees.

"Are you going to travel to the Capitol this year?" I ask hopefully.

"Only if you are. I know Rae and Cruz are, but..."

I sigh sadly. "I have to go. I have no choice."

"Why not?"

_Oh, I don't know. Maybe is has something to do with the fact that Capitol men like the younger generation! _"My father and I are the only living victors from District 12. There was only one other victor, a seventeen year old girl named Clarissa Deveraux won the 12th Hunger Games. She married a few months later and had a few kids but after her thirteenth set of tributes died on her she killed herself in the Capitol."

"That's dark...that's really dark. Poor Clarissa. Her poor husband. And her kids..."

"I know. It's kind of selfish. But I also can't blame her."

"You can't? Why not?"

I laugh sadistically, "Come on, really? You're not really telling me you never thought of doing yourself in, right?"

"I thought about it, yes. I just never thought you-"

"I think all victors have at one point or another."

"I think you're right," Eri says before grabbing the last cookie.

"You. _Hoe!_" I joke, seeing the bag is empty.

"Snooze you lose, _biotch!_"

We giggle before she speaks up again. "It's funny."

"What is?"

"They regard us as heros in our home Districts. They regard us as gods in the Capitol. You'd think we could at least give them the image they want to see. The simple truth of the matter is that we simply cannot. Heros do not have scars and they do not bleed. Gods don't dream. It's absurd, I know."

"The truth of what you said is more disturbing than absurd, I think. But you are right about how they see us. But heros should have the right to bleed, correct?"

"I guess."

"The Capitol and the non-victors back home are just naive. Not to say that everybody who isn't a victor is an idiot; that's not what I'm getting at at all. The smartest guy in 12 that I know of is a boy from the poorest part of the District; not a victor. I'm just saying that nobody can understand a victor the way another one of us can."

She voices her agreement before nodding her head and stepping up off the upside down crate with a yawn. "I guess I have to go to the Capitol with Rae this year. I wouldn't mind talking to you some more."

I give her a quick hug and tell her that I am looking forward to it. "Just make sure you say goodbye before you leave tomorrow morning, okay?"

"Absolutely."

"Our Justice Building has no spare rooms." I sat randomly.

"Really? Then where do we all stay?"

I laugh and reach into my bra and pull out a set of keys to the house in Victor's Village that technically is under my name. "The house I own in Victor's Village. Everyone except Raewyn and the baby of course. I have a feeling she and my father have 'other plans.'"

"Ew! Okay now that is gross. I'd rather not picture my mentor having sex- oh gawd! Now the mental image is in my head. Anyway, why don't you live there?"

"I don't want it. I chose to stay living with my father because I was like, 12 at the time I won. I still don't want to move out anytime soon."

"I wouldn't want to either."

To randomly change the subject: "Still picturing your mentor doing the drunk?"

"Now I am! My goodness girl. With friends like you who needs enemies?" She jokes.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

Ever walks in the house at around 7:15 (not like I am being creepy-stalker-father by clock checking. Every. Ten. Seconds.)

"See Haymitch," Raewyn says in her I-told-you-so voice. "I _told _you she was fine. Eri's not _that _dangerous." She is still holding Trinity in her arms; she hasn't let the baby out of her sight all night- except for when I got to hold her. Being around Trinity is making me miss Ever being that small, but also, I keep thinking about Rose and the baby that died in the arena.

What if Sage was never reaped? What if she'd have told me earlier? What if-?

Ah, the what ifs in life. What if I'd have done_ this_; what if I never said _that_? Damn.

"You okay?" Ever asks after a while. She is still wearing her dress and she looks hopelessly uncomfortable.

"Why don't you go change into something more comfortable?"

"I think I'm just going to go to bed. I'm not tired, it's just been a long day."

"Hm, that's early for you." I get up and gives a hug and a kiss on the forehead. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

"'Night Daddy."

When Ever goes up the stairs I see that Raewyn has placed Trinity beside her on the couch and she is making an, 'aww that's cute' face at me. "What's that face for?" I ask.

"You're so good with Ever. It's really amazing."

I can sense the sadness in her voice. Even though I know the whole horrible backstory of William Hemsworth and there is no way she misses him, I know she doesn't like being alone with all right of her children. They need somebody else other than just her.

I just wish I could do more to help. But I guess having her leaning against my chest while I play with her hair is enough for now.

_For now._

* * *

**Yay! Ever/Eri friendship!**

**Aaaaand also...**

**Next chapter, Katniss and Peeta's Reaping, yeah!**

**Haha this is gonna be funnnn.**

**As my little sister puts it: (She has seen the snippets I've jotted down) "Team Awesome [Ever] or Team HGALB [Katniss]?"**

**HGALB= ****Hormonal-Get-A-Life-Biotch **

******Oooh but I just can't wait to get to the Quarter Quell! No, Ever will not be in it. I will stick to the books as to who competes in them. Teehee but I can't wait 'til Effie gets them the tapes of the Games. Hahaha!**

******Oh, look. There I go. Giving out free spoilers again. *facepalms***


	60. Fate

Don't worry. Hungover Haymitch at the start of the chapter. Drunk Haymitch later XD

0_0 Almsot 600 reviews. OMZ. In less than seven chapters we've gone from almost 500 to almost 600. I love and appreciate you all very very much!

The tributes are the same but I changed a few small things. Just tiny things.

* * *

**Fate**

* * *

_Deep in the man sits fast his fate_  
_To mould his fortunes, mean or great:_  
_Unknown to Cromwell as to me_  
_Was Cromwell's measure or degree;_  
_Unknown to him as to his horse,_  
_If he than his groom be better or worse._  
_He works, plots, fights, in rude affairs,_  
_With squires, lords, kings, his craft compares,_  
_Till late he learned, through doubt and fear,_  
_Broad England harbored not his peer:_  
_Obeying time, the last to own_  
_The Genius from its cloudy throne._  
_For the prevision is allied_  
_Unto the thing so signified;_  
_Or say, the foresight that awaits_  
_Is the same Genius that creates._

_-"Fate" by Ralph Waldo Emerson_

* * *

_Ever..._

I wake up on the morning of August 19th to the bitter realization that today is Reaping Day. It is now my second year of mentoring. My fourteenth birthday has passed and I am now fourteen years old. Only fourteen? Funny, I feel older. A lot older.

I extend my arm to the other side of my small bed, disappointed to see that Kenton has left. I must have just missed him, because his spot is still warm. "Just my luck." I mumble.

"What's just your luck?" Asks a voice I am glad to hear. He leans down and kisses my cheek before giving me a quick peck on the lips.

"Nothing," I say as I smile into the kiss. "Don't you have to get ready for the reaping?"

The now seventeen year old Kenton smiles sarcastically and says, "I think I will just show up in my jeans and shirt. That way if I get reaped Snow will already hate me."

I gasp, "That's so not even funny."

He shrugs, "I didn't think so either. Any way, I outgrew those ridiculous Reaping Day clothes since last year. Besides, what are the odds of me getting reaped anyway?"

"How many times did you sign up for tesserae this year?" I ask. He looks down and doesn't answer. "Kenton." I say sternly.

"One fore everybody in my family. I won't let Keegan take tesserae- but I know of at least fifteen other boys from the Seam who have thier names in more."

I sigh and lean against his chest. "You'd better."

"Don't worry about me."

"You always tell me that." I sigh sadly.

He nods, "Yes, I do. And I mean it."

_Knock knock knock! _"Ever Elizabeth this is the third time I've told you to get up! Come on!"

I swear under my breath and tell Kenton to hide in my closet. "I'm almost ready!" I call. This is a total lie, but since my clothes are already laid out I just run into my bathroom and change out of pajamas an into a pair of grey skinny jeans and a nice blue shirt.

Kenton sneaks out to window to join his parents and siblings at the town square just before my father opens my bedroom door. "Oh hey you weren't kidding! Anyway, come on. As much as I'd love to, we can't be late.

"Right." I mumble before following him downstairs and to the streets. I notice that he isn't drunk today like he was yesterday. "Do you have a nasty hangover, still?"

"A little. I've had worse." He admits.

I kind of like this whole, father-with-a-girlfriend-thing, because he is more self conscious about his appearance in front of the camera. Not obsessive like girls are about looking good, but he doesn't want to look wasted either. I totally approve. "Daddy?"

"Yeah, Ever?"

"How did it feel when you had to mentor Mom?"

"Damn now I need a drink."

"Daddy."

He sighs, "It was the worst year of mentoring in my life- until I had to mentor you, of course. It felt like the end of the world. Why?"

"No reason."

He smiles, "You're worried Kenton is going to get reaped, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Listen Sweetheart. He won't."

I shrug and take that as a promise.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

Minutes later, Mayor Undersee is up at the podium reciting the Treaty of Treason. Ever and I keep nudging each other is the other's eyes start drooping. I have had to listen to this damned treaty once a year for almost forty years now and I know every single word. Ever had to memorize the preamble for school, but she ended up going above and beyond by memorizing the whole thing.

At least the stabbings pains in our ribs from the constant elbowing will be worth it- snickering and suppressed laughter is coming from the crowd. I roll my eyes at it and Ever smiles like a kid at Christmas so I decide to just go with it.

After fifteen minutes of nudging and earning bruises, the Treaty of Treason is over and the mayor reads the list of past District 12 victors. It is pretty sad that in seventy-four years we have had exactly three. Myself, Ever, and Clarissa Deveraux. Even more sad- I am outnumbered two to one. Despite the sad number on the list, the fact that my daughter's name follows mine on that list makes up for it. I often think; what if that killer unicorn hadn't killed Robbie at that moment?

I push those thoughts away and try to focus on the reaping, but it is difficult with my slight hangover.

Mayor Undersee steps aside and introduces our District escort. Effie Trinket steps up to the stage. She was our new escort last year and seems to be getting used to working for the joke of Panem.

Is it wrong that I want to shoot this woman in the face for wearing that stupid pink wig?

It is?

Well, fudgemonkeys.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever_-" She casts a sidewards glance at my daughter, "-in your favor!"

"That gives a while new meaning to the name I once thought was pretty." Ever mumbles to me.

I smiles and mess up her hair, "Just ignore it, okay? You have a beautiful name and Effie Trinket is just a basket case."

She stifles a giggle while Effie goes on and on about how honored she is to, "be in this fine District on this fine day," though it is no secret than she'd rather be working for another District- one with a long list of victors that know twenty-nine different ways to kill you with a toothbrush. Not one with one victor having killed herself over dead tributes and a father-daughter pair comprised of a drunk and a moody teenage prostitute. Not that Effie would know about Ever's...pastime...or does she?

To be honest, I cannot _wait _until Effie Trinket gets that promotion.

"Ladies first!" She crosses the stage to the glass ball that contains the names of all of the girls in District 12 aged twelve to eighteen- save one. I can't help but to have flashbacks to when my daughter's name was drawn. _But why? _I was not thinking so much about it last year. Is this some kind of sick foreshadowing? One of Ever's cousins form her mother's side, perhaps? Or is it another twelve year old?

* * *

_Ever..._

"Ladies first!" She crosses the stage to the glass ball that contains the names of all of the girls in District 12 aged twelve to eighteen- save the name of one fourteen year old girl.

Effie shoves her arm way into the bowl and pulls out a name, "Primrose Everdeen!"

My face screws up in confusion. _Everdeen..._ The name sound so familiar, if only I can place it. I try to think back to when I'd have heard it. The name Everdeen seems to bring the coal mines to my mind. Of course the only memories I have of the mines are traveling down there every year for school feild trips. I hate them so much, especially after that mine explosions four years ago killed-

Oh! I remember now!

They posted a list of names of the dead, the still missing and the found alive miners. I remember from four years ago. I was ten and Kenton was just barely thirteen. His mother, father and oldest brother and older sister were all four working during the time of the explosion. He was afraid to go and check the list alone, in fear of what he would find.

As we scanned the list, we discovered his mother's name on the found alive list and his father's name on the still missing list. The list of the confirmed dead was long. It was not in alphabetical order, so we had to peruse through the names of every poor, ill-fated miner that day. Near the middle of the list, between the names of _Gabriel Hawthorne _and _Alyssa Feller_ was the name _Kaleb Rainriver. _At the very bottom, below the name _Jack Everdeen, _was the name _Yeva Rainriver._

Now I know why I know the name. _Primrose Everdeen _must be the daughter of Jack Everdeen.

It seems Jack and his daughter will both suffer grisly ends.

Primrose Everdeen is a little girl with blonde hair and blue eyes. And she is no more than twelve. I bite my lip to keep from crying becuase I know what the arena does to girls like her, girls like Primrose.

_I promise Primrose. Even if it means I have to join double the amount of Capitol men a night I will bring you home alive._

The crowd mumbles about how unfair it is that such a young girl has been reaped. But does anybody volunteer? No, of course not. Nobody volunteered for me, though, they did offer up the same whispers of sympathy. Disgusting.

"Prim!" A raspy cry comes from the audience. "Prim!" The raspy voice repeats. A girl, obviously from the Seam, comes up and pushes her out of the way. "I volunteer!" She gasps.

_Took you long enough. Bitch._

* * *

_Haymitch..._

"Primrose Everdeen" turns out to be nothing more than a little girl who, I assume, is from the town. I am disgusting at the crowd's reaction. The same whispers of disbelief, disgust, sorrow and anger that they offered for Ever.

Not surprisingly, there are no volunteers. Effie is about to reach into the boys' names when somebody speaks up. "Prim!" A raspy cry comes from the audience. "Prim!" The raspy voice repeats. A girl, obviously from the Seam, comes up and pushes her out of the way. "I volunteer!" She gasps.

The little blonde girl wraps her arms around the Seam girl's legs. "No Katniss! No! You can't go! Please, please stay!"

"Prim, let go." The girl says harshly.

I feel somebody walk past me and look up to see my fourteen year old gently prying Primrose off of Katniss's legs. "Primrose, sweetie. Where's your mother?"

"I am right here." Says a woman around my age. I recognize her as an older version Iris Carmichael. Well, I suppose she must be Iris Evergreen now.

Primrose thrashes violently in Ever's arms and tries hard to escape her. But tiny Primrose is no match for my daughter's firm but gentle grip. "Just calm down, okay, sweetie?"

"Thank you." Iris mumbles to Ever.

"Don't mention Mrs. Everdeen." Ever says, trying to keep her voice from breaking as she goes back over to join me

Effie Trinket brings the focus back to the Reaping by asking the Seam girl what her name is. The girl swallows and answers, "Katniss Everdeen."

"I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her getting all the credit, do we? Well congratulations, Katniss Everdeen! A round of applause, everybody!"

Of course, nobody does. The last time they clapped for a District 12 tribute was when Ever returned home two years ago a victor...so, technically, the never have.

Effie is about to reach her hand into the glass ball of boys' names until Ever lets out a shrill scream. "It's a bee!"

I swear under my breath because ever is deathly allergic to bee stings. And by deathly I really do mean _deathly_. There are actually two bees and one flies away, but the other seems to be trying to sting her. She must have made it mad on accident. I hurry over to her and try to make the bee sting me instead of her, but I trip over her feet, Effie's and my own. I feel the bee sting my hand before I fall from the stage.

The next thing I remember is waking up to Cray splashing water on my face and Ever laughs hysterically.

"Do it again, Cray!"

"Sorry, but he's awake now."

She swears and I correct her language. "It's freak it, nott he other word you just said."

She rolls her eyes, "Whatever. But you have to admit, that was pretty funny. You getting stung by the bee _and _plummeting from the stage."

I ask a question out of impulse. "Ever who is the boy tribute?"

Her face falls. "Peeta Mellark, the baker's son."

I am shocked, hoping there is more than one Peeta Mellark hanging around. "The boy you always buy cookies from Peeta Mellark?"

"Yes, Peeta Mellark.

* * *

Okay, it was short. I know. Next chapter will be much longer!


	61. Saturday

This chapter sucks. I just wanted a quick kinda update because I might not be able to update again 'till NEXT Sunday. So...yeah.

* * *

Don't worry Katniss fans :) She and Ever won't be total betches to each other for no reason. There is just a little tension for now. I have a few big fights planned for after the Games, but that will just come form two girls who are so alike yet so different clashing. I am not making Katniss the "bad guy," nor is Ever the "bad guy."

I got a nasty PM from my sister's friends who has a verrryyyy long pen-name that I don't feel like typing out. Mostly cuz I deleted the PM after replying to it kindly with the above explanation. No, seriously. It's like 5 word and 2 numbers followed by another really long word...ugh. And this kids' like, ten. Flames. eww.

* * *

**Saturday**

* * *

_Believe me_  
_It's easy_  
_To scream when you're dreaming_  
_And wonder what's under your bed when you're sleeping._  
_They beat you._  
_And blame you_  
_For all that you went through_

_-Hedley "Saturday"_

* * *

_Ever..._

While this year's tributes say their final goodbyes to their families I sit on the train with Effie and my father, waiting for the tributes to join us. I am getting a bad feeling about this years' Games- and I really do not know why. Peeta seems like he stands a chance and as much as it kills me to admit it, so does Katniss. So why do I feel so anxious about it?

Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I have something else awaiting me in the Capitol. Right now there is probably a man in his forties licking his lips and rubbing his hands together at the thought of what I will look like when brought before him tonight. I hope he isn't disappointed when I show up in nothing more seductive or impressive than a decent shirt and a skirt. Sick bastards.

I hear the door of this particular train car open and Peeta Mellark is the first to walk in. He seems very upset and he has a right to be. Katniss Everdeen is next. She doesn't look quite as shaken as Peeta. Perhaps it is hollowness, perhaps it is determination. I am not quite sure.

Daddy has already picked up a bottle. Not that it surprises me, but I was hoping he'd wait until the train at least left District 12. I sigh and take a sip of hot chocolate as the two of them awkwardly sit down across from us. My eyes shift away from Katniss and Peeta before I can bring them back to their faces.

"Why don't you two get some rest? We can start helping you out tomorrow," I suggest politely.

"I'm not tired." Katniss says a little harshly. I let it slide, considering she is sure that she will die in a week's time- if that.

"Sorry, just trying to help." I mumble.

"What _would _help your District," Effie starts, "Is your father composing himself on stage and not plunging off of them."

That just ticks me off. "I'm allergic to bees, Effie. He was trying to make it sting him instead since he is _not _allergic."

She just purses her lips. "Stage etiquette is still important."

My father helps me out here, "I think making sure one of our tributes makes it home is more important than showing proper etiquette, Effie."

I see Katniss stifle a laughs and I even smile a little before giving her a serious but kind look. "Finish eating then go to bed. You need to be well-rested for tomorrow."

She knows I am well-meaning, but I'm not sure she appreciates being bossed around by someone two years her junior. "The Capitol can't be _that _much of a culture shock, can it?"

Her attempt at humor is commendable. "Oh," I say. "It can. But that isn't the reason why. After breakfast tomorrow morning we are going to begin to assess your abilities, your strengths, your weaknesses- that goes for you, too, Peeta. Let's try to get District 12 another victor this year, okay?"

* * *

_Katniss..._

Annoying.

That is the one word that runs through my mind when I look at Ever. Perhaps it is the shock of Prim being reaped and me volunteering for her that is causing me to be quick to judge. Perhaps it isn't. I have never been one to make slow judgments about other people but they have also rarely been so harsh. But there are more rude things to think about Panem's youngest victor than 'annoying.' I _could _always say she is stupid in my mind, but I know that that at least isn't a true judgement.

I have always found her annoying, even after she won her games two years ago. I hated the amount of hype that the Capitol press created about her. But that was two years ago, so why is she still annoying to me?

I don't know what it is about her that annoys me. Is it the fact that she is younger than me and giving me orders? Maybe it is the way her voice sounds- it isn't squeaky like a mouse of anything, but she doesn't have a District 12 accent so it sounds really funny to me. I shake my head and decide that her voice cannot be the thing bothering me.

I glance at her outfit and notice that there is nothing prissy or rich-girl about it.

Annoying.

Even though I can't find the reason I think she's annoying, I just think she is. She probably isn't that bad, maybe tomorrow morning it'll be different...

So its clear which of the two mentors I need to impress. Haymitch is my best bet.

_How wonderful._

"I meant it about the going to bed thing. Trust me, it's best." Ever says with that serious look on her face.

Reluctantly, I listen to her advice. After all, even annoying mentors know best, I suppose.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

The tributes reluctantly follow Ever's advice to go to bed; she seems pleased. She turns to me after they are out of earshot, "Does that mean they take me seriously?"

I smile and pass her another cup of hot chocolate, "I'd say so. Why wouldn't they?"

"I'm younger than they are."

"But they have to respect you. No dumb little kid can survive the arena at twelve." I say, smiling at her.

She half smiles and takes a sip from her hot chocolate. "I miss Ivy, Daddy." I bite my lip because the sadness in my daughter's voice is obvious. "You know she's joined the cast of my nightmares, right? Her and Ant both. I them die almost every night. Then they come back to me and blame it all on me. And you know what the worst part is? They are right and I know they are."

Shaking my head I say, "That isn't true Ever and you know it."

"Do I, Daddy? Maybe if I'd let go of that stupid grudge with Ivy a day earlier she'd be alive today. Maybe if I'd done more to help her, she wouldn't have been killed by that demon girl Cassi from District 5."

"Ever Elizabeth," I begin sternly before my voice gets calm and gentle again. "Stop blaming yourself for Ivy's death. You weren't the one with the knife that killed her. I don't want you to end up like me, blaming yourself for the deaths of every tribute you mentor...drinking to numb it all. You don't want that for yourself, sweetheart and I think I'd kill myself _and _you if I let that happen to you."

"But the nightmares...when do they go away?"

I sigh, "When they do, I'll let you know."

"Y-you mean they haven't?"

"There are some nights when they are really bad, others not so much and others not at all...but they never stop altogether. I still see 47 children dying in the arena instead of me. I still see your mother dying and now I picture the b-" I stop myself before finishing the sentence. "Ignore that last part." _I promised myself I wouldn't think about the baby._

"I wake up screaming, Daddy!" I all but shout. "I wake up screaming unless somebody falls asleep with me."

I stop before i can take the sip of vodka I was about to take. "Wait. So you're telling me the reason that I never hear you scream in your sleep is because someone is spending the night with you? A certain..._ cradle robber _perhaps?"

Ever actually laughs at that and spits her hot chocolate on the table. "Did you seriously just call my boyfriend a cradle robber? He is only three years older than me. You and my mother were eight years apart and it was barely legal. So ha-!"

"Touché."


	62. Until The End

Okay, Kate, I lied. The epicness I told you about is NEXT chapter XD

* * *

**Until The End**

* * *

_Why give up, why give in?_  
_It's not enough, it never is._  
_So I will go on until the end._  
_We've become desolate._  
_It's not enough, it never is._  
_But I will go on until the end._

_-Breaking Benjamin "Until The End"_

* * *

_Ever..._

Effie and my father are both up before me, and so is Peeta. Katniss is the only one still asleep- not that I blame her. If it wans't for Daddy threatening to pour ice water on me I'd still be asleep too.

"Good morning," Daddy says with a smug grin. I just grumble incoherently at him and grab a roll of salty District 4 bread.

"Well I can see mornings are pleasant, Haymitch." Peeta jokes, taking a sip from the mug in front of him.

"Oh, they're absolutely lovely. Sometimes she even threatens to stab me. With a spoon, no less."

I roll my eyes at them before gesturing to Peeta's mug. "Coffee or hot chocolate?"

"Hot chocolate; this stuff is _amazing_." He gushes.

"I know. there' this one place in the Capitol that has the best hot chocolate...I'll have to stop by there and bring you back a cup."

"Really?" He asks, surprised that I'd do that.

I take a bite of the District 4 bread and say, with my mouth full, "Ya, sure."

Effie is appalled at my behavior and isn't shy about voicing it. "Ever! Chew and swallow before you speak," she turns to my father and brings him into this. "Haymitch I thought your daughter of all people would have lost the barbarianism of your District!"

Daddy pours some vodka into a glass and takes a large sip before calmly folding his hands in front of him. "Well, Effie, what exactly do you consider 'barbarianism' in my District, hm?"

"Your _daughter's _behavior!"

"You say 'daughter' like it's a bad thing." He says, taking another sip of the liquor. I bite my lip to keep from shouting at him for that. It isn't his fault it's the only way he can think of to drown out the arenas.

Effie sighs, "I'm going to go wake Katniss."

"No. I'll do it," I say quickly. I'm sure Katniss would rather someone from home to the waking than an idiot from the Capitol. I excuse myself from the room and throw the other half of the District 4 roll in the garbage can before walking down the corridor where Katniss's room is. I knock on the door before entering without waiting for her response.

"Good morning." I say politely.

She groans slightly and I chuckle, "Not a morning person either, I see."

"Tell me about it." She mumbles.

"Unfortunately, neither of us have a choice." I say before turning the dial to turn on the lights but turning it slowly so they are dim instead of blinding. "We have to be up now. Effie's orders."

"Sure, just let me change into something different."

"You don't have to. I'm still in my pajamas and Peeta is, too. Of course Effie's not."

Katniss actually laughs and says, "As much as being a part of the group sounds, I think I'll change anyway."

"Okay, just don't take long." I brighten the lights before leaving.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

"Sit down, sit down!" I command hastily to Katniss as I wave her over. She sits down and Effie puts a large amount of food in front of her. Her eyes widen like she has never seen so much food in her life; which, she probably hasn't.

Ever places a cup of hot chocolate in front of her. Katniss gives her a questioning look. "It's hot chocolate," Ever explains. "Try it."

Peeta nods in agreement, "It's amazing."

Katniss takes a sip and burns her tongue. "Hot!"

_That's why it is called hot chocolate. _I think to myself.

Katniss just shrugs and drinks the rest of the hot chocolate. Not that I blame her; it reminds me of the first time I had chocolate. District 12's escort at the time was really annoying and kept trying to take it from me. Stupid bi-

"So, you're supposed to give us advice," Katniss says to Ever and I in a business like tone.

I take a sip from the glass of liquor before replying. "Here's some advice. Stay alive." Then I start laughing, which is odd because I have no idea why it is so funny.

"That's very funny," Peeta says. He then unexpectedly lashes out at the glass in my hand. The sound of shattering glass can be heard before he adds, "Only not to us."

I punch Peeta in the face, knocking him off his chair. As Peeta stands up, I reach for the liquor and Katniss jabs her knife into the table, barely missing my fingers. Ever jumps in and breaks it up, "Dad! Act like an adult, you can't just go around punching the tributes!" She uses one arm to push on my chest and uses one of her knees to push Peeta away while she pulls Katniss's knife from the table. "If any of you make another advance on anybody else I will _cut _you!"

I have a feeling she stole that line from somewhere, but it is still funny as hell coming from my fourteen year old. She relaxes the pressure on my chest and Peeta's and I gently take the knife from her hand. I run my fingers gently on the blade and grin widely. "Did we actually get a pair of fighters this year, sweetheart?"

Her facial expression is a mix between shock, curiosity and happiness when she says, "I believe we did."

She then crouches down to the floor and picks up some ice to hand it to Peeta. I place my hand between hers and Peeta's. "No, let the bruise form. Everybody will think you fought with with another tribute before the Games even began."

"But-" Ever starts worriedly.

Peeta finishes her thought, "That's against the rules."

Ever finally catches on and in unison we say, "Only if you get caught!"

I smirk and add, "That bruise will say you fought and you weren't caught," I turn to Katniss. "Can you hit anything with that knife but the table?"

She nods slowly and cautiously and I hand the knife to her. She throws it and it lands in between two of the panels. "Impressive." I mumble.

"No. Freaking. Way..." Ever whispers with a childlike smile on her face.

"Stand over there," I command, gesturing to the middle of the room. They obey and I circle them. I kind of feel bad for them- they must feel like prey for vultures. My daughter stands up against the wall, tilting her head to the side in contemplation. She bites her left inner cheek then switches to her right. Back to the left, back to the right...

"I think the two of you stand a chance." She says confidently.

"Everybody has a chance." Effie says cheerily.

Ever frowns at her and says a little hostilely, "Yes. Yes, everyone _does _have a chance. But most years the Careers have about a 3.25 percent chance. Some of the other rich District have about a 3.00 chance. District 12 usually is stuck with a .04 chance at best. But this year...this year I think we have a 3.00 chance- if not more."

"Please tell me you made those percentages up on the spot," I plead. If not, I am about to feel really stupid.

She grins, "They were educated estimates, but yes. I made them up."

The anthem of Panem plays on television, showing that recaps of the reapings are starting. "Watch the recaps," we say in unison.

"You need to try and study your competition." I say- not slur.

Ever and I also sit down to watch the reapings.

District 1 has the normal bunch of Careers- some girl named Bloom Meriwether is reaped and a girl named Glimmer Twilight volunteers; glory of the games, no doubt. Then a boy named Marvel Starr is reaped. Two boys volunteer and end up getting in a fist fight for the spot. The boy that wins prances up to the stage, only to get decked in the face by Marvel- "He doesn't volunteer. It's okay." A terrified wail rises from someone in the audience, a small child. His sister, no doubt. Marvel doesn't even blink. _I hope you die first._

Maybe that was harsh.

District 2 has a twelve year old girl named Claudia van Morre reaped. She confidently marches up to the stage and an older girl shouts out, "No way is Claudia stealin' _my _glory!" The girl seemingly floats up to the stage. She flips her hair at the cameras seductively and says, "Clove Marcella. At your service." _Disgusting. _A boy, Julius Palmer is reaped. He seems less happy about it than the average Career. "Heck! I'll go, too!" The boy introduces himself as Cato Merlin.

Shame.

District 3 has a girl no older than fourteen named Felicia Drive reaped. Nobody volunteers because 3 is not a Career District. She has siblings, the cameras pan to them. Then a boy named Spark LeRoux is reaped. He seems to be at least sixteen and strong enough to fight- perhaps he, too, stands an unlikely chance. _Hm..._

Now it is getting interesting.

* * *

_Ever..._

District 4 is next. I smile as the cameras pan to Finnick before the name, "Dani Haller!" is called out. Surprisingly, nobody volunteers for the tall, muscular mid-teen with black hair. Odd. I was expecting more glory volunteers. A boy named Derek Phillips is reaped. Derek seems very capable and he is excited to be reaped. A boy volunteers for glory, a boy who announces that his name is Drew Gregory. Drew Gregory isn't as impressive as most Careers are expected to be. _First Career death for sure._

Good luck, Finnick.

District 5 pulls two kids who were reaped: A redheaded girl with an interesting-looking face and red hair by the name of, "Lilith Klein!" I look over to Katniss and see her mouth something. I read her lips and they form the word, 'Foxface.' _Interesting nickname. _The boy is rather unimpressive and is named "Darian Muller!"

Darian will die early for sure, but Lilith? We will see.

District 6 comes up with two more reaped kids. "Eloise Gardner!" and "Davey Haines!" Eloise and Davey both have blonde hair and blue eyes. They seems older than twelve but they are the size of twelve year olds. I am going to blame that on malnutrition. If they survive the bloodbath it'll be a miracle. _I feel bad, now._

Moving on...

District 7 gets two kids who were reaped, not volunteered. Not that it surprised anybody. "Maple Summers!" and "Twig Saunter!" show promise, though. I am ninety-two per cent sure one of them at least will survive the bloodbath...ninety-two per cent. _Not one hundred._

I hope I am right.

District 8 ends up with two reaped tributes. Both eighteen year olds, though, so I suppose that is good news. "Magdalena Sullerman!" and "Taylor Breeze!" confidently walk up. I am sure they both believe they can make it past the bloodbath. _And in all honesty, I hope they are right._

I bite my lip. 9 is next.

District 9 comes on. "Carmen Graines" is a fifteen or sixteen year old girl with blonde hair and blue eyes. The cameras pan over to the victors and they are all keeping straight faces. Eri taps Raewyn on the shoulder and whispers something to her. Raewyn's blue eyes widen and I see her mouth 'sorry,' to Eri. I bite my lip, curious as to how Eri and Carmen know each other. "Gavriel Norris!" is the name of a seventeen or eighteen year old boy (or fifteen, perhaps?). He is thin, obviously a factory worker. Bloodbath. Bloodbath for sure. _Raewyn and Eri don't stand a chance._

They seem to know it, too.

District 10 winds up with a girl named Lamb Hanna. Lamb Hanna has brown hair, brown eyes and very pale skin. She can't be older than fifteen and she is just too thin. _Bloodbath. Unless she makes an alliance. _The boy, "Devon Mitchell!" has a crippled foot. I bite my lip and hope he survives to Bloodbath. That will be enough for me.

Chaff and Seeder are next.

District 11. District 11 starts out with a twelve year old girl by the name of Rue Twine being reaped. Protests fill the crowd, but no volunteers step forward. Nothing can be heard but the rustling wind. I wrap my arms around my chest and I feel my father wraps his arms around me protectively. "Thresh Jermaine!" is reaped next. He is eighteen and the fire in his eyes relaxes me to an extent- he will protect little Rue Twine. _Perfect._

I sigh as I watch the events of District 12s reaping this year.

District 12. "Primrose Everdeen!" is reaped. Katniss volunteers and though I was there, I breathe a sigh of relief now on the train. _Thank you, Katniss. _Then is shows me and the two bees. One flies away, but the other is pissed. Daddy takes the bee sting, but he also trips and falls. I laugh hysterically, but he still keeps his arms around me protectively. I stop my laughter abruptly as, "Peeta Mellark!" is reaped.

Primrose. Katniss. Peeta. Peeta. Katniss. Primrose.

District 12 _must _have a victor this year. We must for all three of them...


	63. Queer

**Now, this chapter is quite different than the other ones. And before anybody is like 'Whoa! What now-' well... that'll be explained in the A/N next chapter. So...yeah.**

**Thank you everybody for your reviews! I really do appreciate them.**

**(Oh, most importantly, thank you to Howlynn for your advice and help :D)**

**Warning: This chapter like legit borders on M. No sex scene or anything, but it's really really dark and has mature subjects discussed...a lot.**

* * *

**Queer**

* * *

_The queerest of the queer _  
_The strangest of the strange _  
_The coldest of the cool _  
_The lamest of the lame _  
_The numbest of the dumb _  
_I hate to see you here _  
_You choke behind a smile _  
_A fake behind the fear _  
_The queerest of the queer _

_-Garbage "Queer"_

* * *

_Ever..._

Finnick Odair is the first person I see when I step off the train. Or to be more correct, his voice is the first voice I hear and he kind of grabs me and slings me over his shoulder. At first, the fact that somebody is touching me freaks me out- and I have a right to freak!- but I realize it is just Finnick, so I relax. He finally lets me stand on my feet again and I roll my eyes at him.

He gets a dramatic look in his eye and says, "Didst thou misseth me, my love?"

"Each passing day was like a journey further and further into Hell!"

He laughs rather loudly and pulls me into a hug. "I missed telling Haymitch about our sexual escapades...together."

"I didn't," Daddy mumbles from behind me. I scream and cling to Finnick because I had no idea he was there. "Whoa! Ever, relax. It's just me."

I glare at him, "Oh go find Chaff or something."

He grins, "You're right, I should find Chaff...Finnick, try keeping her clothes _on_. At least wait until you've been in the Capitol for a few hours, 'kay?"

"Did you hear that, Ever? He just like, gave us permission to do it later!" Finnick says with fake excitement.

Daddy rolls his eyes and mumbles something about Finnick acting three instead of _twenty_-three, which just makes us laugh.

"Opening ceremonies work for you, Fin?" I ask in a flirty voice.

"_Any_time works for me," says Finnick seductively while he slowly moves his hand to my side.

I am about to slap it away, but he only pokes me really hard in the ribs. "Ow! Ass."

Finnick laughs and stretches and yawns. "Oh, I am so happy the tributes are with the stylists. Gives us mentors a few hours of freedom."

I yawn, too. "Tired?"

"You have no idea," He pauses before saying, "You want to go with me to the Training Center? We can sleep there- chill Haymitch, we'll hold off on the stuff you should never walk in on for a few hours."

He just rolls his eyes but plays along, "Safe sex is okay."

"Ew!" Finnick and I say in unison as Daddy walks away laughing.

Finn yawns again. "Seriously, you wanna come to the Training Center with me?"

"That actually sounds like a good idea," I mumble, following Finnick to the Training Center.

"Good. Now the only challenge will be avoiding the cameras. The friendship between the youngest victors in history is apparently a big deal to them."

"Well of course it would be," I laugh.

We arrive at the Training Center and make a beeline for the elevator, trying to dodge the Capitol cameras. We don't do a good job avoiding them at first and the lights are getting annoying. Finnick throws one of his arms around me and ducks my head down as we step into an elevator. He presses the '4' button and I press the '12' button. He raises his eyebrows, "Oh, so you'd rather chill out alone in your room than cuddle with. I see how it is."

I playfully punch him, "I thought you wanted to nap alone."

"I actually wanted to talk to you, Ev." He says seriously.

"Oh, well then I guess I'll just-" I jab the 12 button again and the light goes off. "-there."

The elevator stops on the fourth floor and we both walk out. Finnick laughs psychotically. "Hahahaha! This is the best part about being the first person up here. I get to pick my room and I choose...the _same one as last year_!" He scurries to the door at the end of the hall. "Come hither!"

"Stop making me laugh! I need to breathe!"

"Psh, oxygen. Who needs it?"

"Er, every living thing that isn't anaerobic?"

He kicks off his shoes and gets comfy on the bed before motioning for me to do the same. "How are you holding up, hon?"

I frown, "Holding up? Well, okay I guess."

"You don't have to pretend around me, Ever." He places his hand gently on mine and stares at me with inquiring sea green eyes.

I shake my head. "Don't do that, Fin."

"Don't do what?"

"That face you're making...and the hand touch...it feels to me like you're seducing a client."

He frowns slightly and apologizes. "Seriously, Ev. How have you been...coping?"

"I've come to terms with it," I lie. I haven't told Finnick who my last client was last year. I haven't told him about the nightmares.

He buries his face in his pillow and shakes his head before turning to face me again. "Don't lie!" He exclaims, frustrated. "I can't help you if you don't tell me the truth,"

He throws an arm across my abdomen as if to hold me there. "Be honest?"

I frown but agree. Finnick is the only person who can help me so I need to let him. "Now that I have gone through my first year of it, I thought I wouldn't dread it so much as I came back to the Capitol this year. I was wrong; really, really wrong. I've been having nightmares about the people that I have to see and-"

"Wait. Stop. Hold _everything_. Nightmares?"

"Flashbacks, really." I correct.

He gives me a look of pain and disgust. "Ever," He hisses, "What do they _do_ to you?"

"Finnick you don't want to-"

"Yes, I do. Tell me everything and I mean everything."

"Details?" I inquire reluctantly.

"Very detailed details."

* * *

_Haymitch..._

The recaps of the reapings are on again, but I pay them no mind. We will all see the tributes again shortly during the opening ceremonies, so there is really no point. _Here's hoping Katniss and Peeta aren't naked. _I order a glass of the strongest liquor the Training Center's bar has, but don't take a sip just yet. _Probably not. They've got Cinna and Portia, and they've been wonderful for the past two years. _

I hear the voices before I actually turn around to see who it is.

"Mommy, Trinity has Patch again!" Says a small child. I grin and remember that that voice belongs to Zahra-Rose, Raewyn's second youngest child. Patch is her little stuffed dog.

"Zahra-Rose," her mother says irritated, "Trinity is nine months old. Just let her play with Patch for now."

"But Mommy-"

"Zahra, what is she going to do with it, huh?" Says a third, unfamiliar voice. This time, it is a male's voice."

"She' gon' slobber on it, Taivas," Zahra-Rose argues. Taivas, that's her oldest son. He's two years older than Ever- adopted, not hers or William's biologically. Hey! I remembered!

Taivas chuckles at his little sister and promises that if she slobbers on it he will wash it. Raewyn thanks Taivas as I turn my head to the side to get a quick look at them. He doesn't look anything like her- which is expected. In all honesty, if his eyes were grey instead of green, he could be from the Seam.

"No problem, Mom." Her son says before picking up the four and a half year old. "I'll go take Z to the sweet shop around the corner. That might keep her quiet for a while."

"I think that might satisfy her," Raewyn says as she shifts nine month old Trinity in her arms. Isn't that a fair trade? Let your sister play with Patch and you get candy?"

Zahra shrugs in her brother's arms. "I guess so. But I _will _require more compensation for this capacious concession."

Taivas rolls his eyes and smiles, "Stop trying to learn mines and Waverly's vocabulary words. You didn't even use 'capacious' in the right context and I'll bet you forgot what compensation means."

"Ooh Mommy look! It's Haymitch!" The little girl exclaims happily.

Raewyn looks up and her facial expression changes from 'stressed-out-single-mother-about-to-trade-her-kids-for-poodles-agitated' to 'finally!-another-adult!-happy.' "Haymitch!" She gives me a hug and a quick kiss, careful not to crush the baby in her arms.

I return the kiss, which makes Taivas smirk. "You could at least wait until Z and I _actually _leave, you know."

"I've caught you and Gwyn doing worse," She cleverly replies. He blushes and mumbles something about how he is going to go take Zahra now. He offers to take Trinity, too, but she tells him 'no, Eri wanted to watch her a little later.' She turns back to me and starts laughing. "When will he learn? He'll _never _win with me."

"That's the same thing I wonder with Ever sometimes...though she is actually the one who _does _win most of the time, so..."

"At least you only have one teenager. I have a pissed off 19 year old daughter, an 18 year old son who thinks I don't know what he and his girlfriend do behind closed- and open- doors, a 14 year old son who can't seem to _not _be escorted home by Peacekeepers every night, and one 12 year old of each that _think_ they are teenagers."

"Hm, for once, I don't envy you."

She smiles, "Don't get me wrong- I love it, I'm never bored with them. But I just wish that for like, _two days_ they could be calm, well-behaved adults." We share a look before bursting into laughter. "Yeah right. Adults are so not calm," She pauses and asks seriously, "How is Ever?"

"She is...well I suppose she is doing better now that she is around Finnick."

She nods and bites her lip, "That is probably best. He's the only one who can help her."

I bury my face in my hands for a half second or so angrily. "I know that. And I hate it."

She gives me a sympathetic look and tries to tell me that it isn't my fault. That is total BS, though. Now, whether or not _she _chooses to believe it is BS is her own choice; but I know better.

If I hadn't won, if I'd have just _saved _her somehow instead of watching her bleed to death because of those artificially pink birds, none of this would have happened. If I didn't win, she would have for sure. If she won, Rose and I never would have grown to tolerate each other because I'd be dead, and then Ever would never even have been born and never would have had to go through the torture that has become her life.

There. Me dying in the arena solves everything.

_What a selfish bastard I am. I can't believe I'd rather have the both of us not exist...still. Ever would have been much better off if Rose had ended up with Vulcan Hopeflame or one of those boys from town. Once again; my fault._

* * *

_Ever..._

Finnick's face is buried into his pillow before I can even finish giving him the details he'd asked for. Knowing he cannot bear to hear any more of it, I stop before I even get to the halfway point of a typical client. "Had enough?" I ask harshly.

"Yes! Just stop, Ever. Please just stop..."

I shrug nonchalantly. "You asked."

"How can you act like you don't care anymore?" He whispers, shocked.

"It's not so much I don't care, Finn, it's just that I've grown used to it. There is nothing I can ever do to change this so I might as well be a big girl and deal with it. Nobody can fix this- not even _you_." I push him away before he can hug me and I stand up, prepared to leave.

"I never wanted you to think that I thought I could fix everything. I know I can't. There is nothing anybody can say to Snow to make him change his mind."

"Then why do you even care, Finnick?"

"Because I just _do_, Ever. I know what it is like not being in charge of your own body-"

I glare at him before I interrupt. "At least you know how to enjoy it."

He just stares at me in confusion, disbelief and a little pain. "You mean you've never...never enjoyed-?"

"Nope."

"Not- not even just a little bit?"

I shake my head and tell him no. "How can I possibly even _remotely_ enjoy what they do, Finnick?"

"You're right, you're right."

Silence.

He sighs, "I wish there was some way I could help you with that. You know, it really isn't all that bad. Sex I mean. It can be good...under the right circumstances."

I raise my eyebrows. "Like when?"

He blushes, obviously uncomfortable with talking about 'good sex' in front of me as opposed to 'bad sex.' "W-well, like...like...I can't explain this to you."

"I'm not five."

"I know, I know. It's not age, it's that I don't really know how to explain '_it_,' you know? I can't quite get it right."

"Whatever," I mumble.

"Ever."

"What?" I snap.

"I truly am sorry that you only know the horror of it. If I knew a way I could have you know the other side of it I would make you do it in an instant."

"More force. How sweet." Is my sarcastic reply.

He scowls, "You know what I meant, Ev."

I sigh sadly. "I know, it's just..."

"It's just what, Ever?"

"Never mind."

"No, tell me," He insists.

"It's just, sometimes, it seems like you're the only one who cares."

He is taken aback by that. "Only one? Are you crazy? Your father cares-"

"Then how come he isn't acting more upset, more angry? How come he isn't up all night crying with me when I wake up screaming?" I shout at Finnick.

He remains clam, even while I shout in his face. "Did you ever think it was because he was in such shock that his mind tried to deny it?"

I raise my eyebrows. "You're trying to tell me my father was in _denial_?"

"It's very possible, Ever. You'd be surprised at what trauma or shock can do to people. In fact, if he's _only _in denial, then that's a good thing."

"I never thought of it that way...what time is it?" Finnick checks the clock and says that it is time for the opening ceremonies. "Can we skip them?"

"Huh?"

"The opening ceremonies. Can we skip them and just go get coffee or something?"

"I thought you hated coffee?" He says uncertainly.

I nod, "I do hate coffee. But you like it and I like hot chocolate, so I could just get that instead. Please Finnick? I just want to forget about the Games for twenty minutes."

Finnick pretends to think about it and says, "I don't see why not...bet I'll beat you downstairs!"

* * *

_Haymitch..._

The chariot rides are rather unimpressive this year- very forgettable. District 7 is trees this year (why am I not surprised?) and District 9 look like some sort of dilapidated metallic things. Raewyn facepalms as they go by and I hear her mutter something to herself about calming down because neither of them stood a chance anyway, even without the ridiculous chariot costumes.

I give her hand a reassuring squeeze. "You never know for sure. They could surprise you and be kick-ass."

"I wish I could hope for that, but I know the Graines and Norris families. Gavriel Norris's father and I used to be best friends- before I won the Games and he decided I was a 'murderous pig.' Evan always hated the Games and had an odd opinion on dying in the arena. He said he preferred to die in the bloodbath than to allow the Capitol to turn him into a killer. Carmen Graines is friends with Eri. She has slight mental retardation. There's nothing any mentor can do to help with that."

"Oh, wow...I'm sorry about Carmen."

"Don't. That's why I'm trying not to get too attached to her...does drinking really help with that?" She asks.

I shake my head at her. "Don't turn into me. Ever'd kill you if you did."

"Speaking of Ever- have you seen her and Finnick around?"

Oh no.

They must be having sex!

_That bastard! _

But wait. _If _Ever and Finnick were to, for some reason, actually do that with each other...at least he wouldn't hurt her. At least he'd be gentle and- no, no, no! Bad Haymtich!

I shake my head, trying to erase those thoughts. Finnick wouldn't really- would he? He cares about her in a non-sexual way- right? But would it really be that bad if he were to be helping her in doing so?

No, it wouldn't.

_But_, they don't do that, so there is no way-

District 12 is next, and, of course, last. I am expecting something just like Cinna and Portia have come up with for the past two years, but Katniss and Peeta's fire costumes were...whoa.

As much as I love that my tributes have a chance again this year...seriously. Where _is _my daughter?

* * *

_Finnick..._

That night, the reapings were being replayed on the flatscreen in the downstairs victor's lounge. All of the mentors have sent the tributes to bed, even though there are only a handful of us watching the recaps. I am the only Career mentor here- and that's only because Ever wanted to watch them.

There is one mentor each form Districts 5, 6, 8 and 10. Johannah Mason from 7 is there too. I smile at her politely and she smiles back. Johanna and I are somewhat friends. It is very complicated between us, but friendly. Let's just say I helped her out a lot after Snow dished out her post-games 'presents.'

Surprisingly, our group lacks our friends from 11 and 9.

Haymitch says Seeder was tired and Chaff was a little drunk. Okay, understandable.

District 9 on the other hand;

Raewyn is freaking _psycho_ and would _never_ miss a chance to watch the reaping recaps. I love her to death and she's sweet, but psycho. She studies the tributes like lab rats and takes copious notes, just trying to figure out other tribute's weaknesses or a strategy for her tributes in the arena. Not to say that her psycho-chick methods don't work. At not even thirty-three years of age, she has brought home three tributes, and being from a non-Career District, that is excellent.

Still. Her obsessiveness with bringing tributes home should have made her join us tonight. When I ask Haymitch why, he laughs and says, "She's afraid of Johanna."

"I don't blame her," Ever pipes up. "Johanna is scary."

"I'm right here, you know." Johanna says from behind Ever and I.

"Eeep! Finnick hide me!" Ever exclaims, hiding behind me.

"Johanna," I scold. "Be nice."

"Idiot," She mumbles to Ever.

As District 1s reapings start, Ever and I sit down on one of the couches. She is really tired, so I have her lie on my lap while I play with her hair. She's always liked that- even when she was a little kid and Haymitch would bring her to the Capitol. I smile fondly at the memories. When I was a new victor and mentored my first year, Ever would always wander over to me and I'd get bored and unconsciously mess with her hair. Whenever I'd stop, she would complain and I'd continue. Honestly, it was like having an adorably annoying little sister.

_Now it's all different._

She is no longer that six year old girl who liked having me mess with her hair because it was fun. She is now a fourteen year old girl who has had so many things change so fast that even something as small as me playing with her hair makes her feel like everything is normal again.

_But it'll never be normal again, kid, _I think to myself as the District 4 reapings come to a close.

The District 5 reaping comes on. The mentor leaves.

District 6 come on. The mentor injects herself with some morphling. Then she leaves.

District 7. Johanna sticks around until after District 8, which is when she and the mentor from 8 exit the room.

District 10's mentor leaves before his District is even shown.

Ever yawns as District 10 comes to a close. "Finnick?"

I smiles at her sleepy voice. "Yes, Ev?"

"Can I stay in your room tonight?"

"What's with asking? Just say, 'Hey Finnick, I'm invading your personal space tonight- deal with it!' Haha, of course you can. I've actually gotten use to you being there," I admit.

She grins, "Thanks."

She yawns one more time before I reach into my pocket and pull out a key to my room. "Why don't you go ahead and get up there? Try sleeping a little."

"I'm that tired."

I shrug, "If you say so."

For some reason, I know she is smirking before she even sits up and turns to me. In a flirty voice she says, "On second thought, give me that key. I should prepare myself for this evening."

I hand her the key and wink at her. "I'll be there in a few minutes, baby. I do hope you will be ready."

Ever snickers and says, "Only if you hurry. I can't wait forever.

Haymitch gives us both a look of disgust. We watch the chariot rides again, mostly because neither of us are sure who should leave first. When the replay is over I stand up and say in a voice that people use when talking pervertedly, "Well, old man, guess I better go sleep with your daughter."

I assume that Haymitch knows that Ever and I are still just joking, which is why I am beyond surprised when he stands up and makes eye contact with me. "I know it sounds terrible and sick, but I do appreciate that you have shown her that it can be good. I don't want her to think it is all...horror. Just... be careful with her, Finnick. She is so young and fragile and her heart can't take a 'love-em and leave-em' routine. I know you would never do that to her though, and in your hands she will find only joy and gentle adoration."

My eyebrows draw together in shock, anger and confusion. "Haymitch, you do know that we are only teasing you, don't you? I would never actually-."

I realize too late that he really thinks Ever and I were being serious this time. One could just feel his heart drop. "Wait, you mean you and she are not..."

"No. I am no kiddie corrupter. God Haymitch, how can you even think...that's wrong on so many levels! It'd feel like like incest _and _pedophilia if I were t'..." My face is beet red and I am actually a little surprised to find myself legitimately angered.

"If you weren't doing _it,_ then where were you doing the opening ceremonies?"

"We went out to get coffee and hot chocolate! Last time I checked, that wasn't a sexual advance."

Haymitch shakes his head in frustrated agony. "Finn, please. You have to. You have to help her, coach her in these matters. I had no idea you would only sleep with her _innocently_...throw her to the wolves like you did? How could you be so cruel? You are telling me that she has  
never experienced...that she has never felt any joy? You have denied her your expertise? You haven't even given her that?"

"Haymitch." I shake my head in horror and shock at his suggestion and accusations. I rake my fingers through my bronze hair. My eyes shine with tears that I struggle to hold back. "I love her, Haymitch, which is why I can't be the one t'...she's...she's like my _sister_ for goodness sake! Not me, Hay...I won't...I can't be the one to ruin h-"

"She is already ruined, Finnick! She's been tortured, beaten and raped by more men than either of us want to believe! If somebody doesn't help her see the other side of it now, it'll be too late and she will never be able to enjoy it- not even with a loving partner."

I shake my head and a few tears involuntarily fall down the left side of my face. "Haymitch, please! Stop, I can't do that to her, I can't! It will just hurt her more."

"You don't know that for a fact."

"Hay, please. I won't be the one to show her..."

"Finn, if not you, who? She cringes at almost anyone's touch, but yours and that of a boy back in District 12! And I know _he_ doesn't plan on trying to love her in that way anytime soon. By the time they are ready for each other, it will be too late, because all she will know of it is pain, torture and sadness! You know what will happen if you don't teach her to be in control. They will...destroy her. Is that something you can live with Finn? When they find her body and it is so badly defiled that not even her own father can recognize her? Will you go with me to identify the body? To be sure it is her? Will you look upon that little girl and see their work, knowing you could have stopped it? You helped Johanna, Finnick. It's Ever, old friend. Protect my little girl."

As Haymitch speaks my eyes soften from bitter anger to slight anger, to hurt to fear and from fear to denial then, finally, acceptance. I nod slowly. Haymitch is right and in order to save Ever, I have to do the unthinkable. I put both hands on his shoulders and close my eyes tight so the tears clouding my vision can clear away. "I am so sorry Hay. I will do what I can. Just realize this isn't going to be easy for anybody..."

He slowly moves my hands from his shoulders. He closes his eyes. "It's about her Finn. Finding enjoyment, is not evil, if you keep her safe by doing so."

I nod, sealing our agreement as I turn to leave. I linger in the doorway and try to fight the tears of frustration but my voice breaks anyway. "It still feels wrong."

"I know, and I'm sorry. But there is no one else she will allow to help her in that way."

"I know, Hay. But it doesn't make it any easier!" I shout as I punch a hole in the wall upon leaving.

Once I am alone in the elevator I lean against the glass wall and allow myself to slide down it. I know exactly what I have to do now and exactly how it will play out. That doesn't make it any less wrong.

I decide take advantage of my sitting on the floor.

I lay my head on my knees and let the tears flow freely until there are none left to cry.


	64. Hate Me

Huge thank yous to Howlynn [like 100 times!], BookAddiction24, and KateTheFanfictionist for this chapter! :)

If you are easily disturbed, I'd say skip most of Finnick's POV...which is like, the first 3,000-3,200 words. No lemony stuff, but mature subjects are mentioned. Whoa. 637 reviews up to now...whoa! I am like, so stunned- thank you everybody who has been R & R-ing! I could hug you all. I don't have me copy of The Hunger Games at home right now, so the next update won't be for a little while. Oh, and about the Finnick-having-to-sex-coach-Ever thing: There are a few psychological reasons behind that. If you're confused, PM me and we shall become UNconfused!

Next chapter will have plenty more Katniss and Peeta, but I don't have my book right now so that's why there is only a little

* * *

**Hate Me**

* * *

_Hate me today_  
_Hate me tomorrow_  
_Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you_

_Hate me in ways_  
_Yeah ways hard to swallow_  
_Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you_

_-Blue October, "Hate Me"_

* * *

_Finnick..._

"Damn Haymitch Abernathy! Damn him to Hell!" I shout before the elevator doors open.

Putting on a calm exterior, I walk out of the elevator and to the door at the end of the hall. Though I have a key, I do not go in. I just stand there for what feels like hours but I can't be more than maybe ten minutes. My hand it pressed against the door as if to keep the guilt I am feeling away from me; which of course is ridiculous.

_You can't feel guilt about something you haven't done yet, Finnick. _"No, that's not the point," I tell myself. "You're guilty because you know what you are about to do. What Haymitch asked you to do."

With a sigh, I pull the key from my pocket before I realize the door in unlocked and propped open. _She must have thought I gave her the only key. _I shrug and push open the door.

Ever doesn't snore, but I can hear her even breathing as she sleeps cuddling a pillow. dead to the world. I remember one time when she was sleeping in the victor's lounge during reaping recaps. Neither myself nor Chaff, nor Haymitch would wake her, so Haymitch had to stay awake there all night while she slept...

_Damn him! _I clench my fists to keep from punching another hole in the wall.

I want nothing more than to punch Haymitch Abernathy in the groin. Not because of the unthinkable above and beyond favor he has asked of me, which is a painful subject in itself, but for the horrific images he has put in my mind. I can picture her dead because I failed her. Any harm that comes to her from here on out will be nobody's fault but my own. I may not be the one leaving bruises on her body, but I am the one who can help her.

I make sure to move about quietly so as not to wake her. I trip over one of the legs of the table and swear quite loudly. I tiptoe to the bed to see if she is still asleep and sure enough, she is sleeping peacefully, pillow sandwiched between her torso and her right arm, her left resting on the space I'd usually sleep on. I want to grin, I want to smile at her as she sleeps. But I cannot. She is lying there trusting me to do nothing but hold her, be her friend and not look at her the way other men do. _Darn you, girl. Why do you have to trust me so much? Trust me not to hurt you, not to treat you like those men do, and to...not to do what I am about to have to do. _

"But it is either this, or the alternative." I whisper hollowly to myself.

The alternative. I try to push the thoughts from my mind, but they are too much. The pictures are all too clear and I rush to the bathroom and vomit. The dry heaves follow as the horrific images flash through my mind. Ever in the morgue, face beaten beyond recognition, skin gray, lifeless. Ever, her once beautiful brown eyes still open and cloudy, found dumped half dressed in a public garbage bin, where her fans snap pictures of her and they sell them to the gossip magazines and channels for all of Panem to see her and mock her. Ever in a casket, while Haymitch, his sanity lost, his eyes still accusing me of letting her down.

I try to think of the happy memories of her. Ever at ten, begging me to let her come visit me by the sea. Ever at seven looking at me like the king of all that was good as I brought her the lovely shells and the pretty bottle of sand she'd asked for. Ever at eleven in tears from laughing so hard as I distracted Enobaria while Ever emptied that bag of live lizards into her salad. Nobody loves me in the way she does. I am many things to many people, but to Ever, I am her big strong hero, her big brother, and her best friend. If I actually go through with this...this will ruin that for Ever, forever.

Nothing will be the same.

In her eyes, I will become just one more wolf sniffing after her and she will never see 'her Finnick' again. I will stop being her hero, her big brother, the one she trusts beyond all others- even her own father. The moment she sees lust in my eyes will be the moment she will forget me, and even if she could accept my well meaning adoration, we will never again be perfect, like me are this moment. I hate everything about myself as I stand there, watching her sleep as I make the difficult decision.

Throw her to the wolves or _become_ the wolf and teach her how to be the alpha.

Teach. So what if it helps her? It's still going to ruin everything. I don't want anything to change between us...but it can't be avoided.

_Just think of her as one of those Capitol women, Finnick. Think of it like that and you can do this. _Is what I tell myself but I know it's not like that. I know things about Ever that I don't bother to learn about those women. I know her middle name (Elizabeth), her favorite color (blue), the type of perfume she wears (I can't pronounce it but it smells like raspberries) and the name of the shade of purple eyeliner she uses (dark violet).

I am good at acting for those women, so I should be able to pretend I don't care for Ever. But that's the thing. I can't _not care_ about her because I already do, and have for so long, I can't imagine Ever gone from my life in either terrible way.

I pour myself a drink and stand three feet away from the bed, watching her, hating myself with every fiber of my being. I know Haymitch was right, after the things she'd confessed to me earlier I know she will not live long if this continues. The stories she told me make me want to kill every person she names in the most brutal ways possible. Perhaps I can impale them all with tridents. Yes, that sounds wonderful. Impale all of those perverted Capitol bastards who dare damage her, who dare leave bruises and scars on a body they have no right to touch. The cruelty of what they do will be the death of her if I do not help her in this way.

I knew I should have begun last year. I should have known and never let those sadistic rats be her only experience. I was foolish.

There she sleeps. Peacefully, freely. She is happy. Safe. If only she knew...

I blink back the tears before I close my eyes, and force the lump in my throat away with another sip of the bourbon. I have to banish my little sister from my mind and see her as a woman.

_Forgive me, kid. I don't want this, _I think before closing my eyes and silently praying. _I will burn in hell no matter what, but Aegir please don't let it be because I fail her._

I open my eyes and gaze at her again. New eyes, seeing her as they do, my breath catches. She is quite beautiful; somewhere in the neighborhood of girl-next-door. Ever isn't too beautiful to where she looks like she jumped out of a magazine and I like that. She stays true to herself and that is more beautiful than five hundred dollar perms and plastic surgeries. It has truly been a while since I've seen- actually seen- someone so natural yet beautiful.

I blink a few times before getting another good look at her. Her lips are delicious, demanding to be kissed, her breasts not bad for someone her age and the outlines not well hidden under the thin satin of her pajamas, I look at her thin waist and how her hips swelled, begging to be given more than pain and humiliation. In all honesty, Ever takes my breath away at how she has indeed grown into a young woman while I refused to see anything but a child.

_I can see why these men want her. I could want her. I can do this for her. I must find a way to do this._

Protect her, keep her alive, teach her how to survive.

Protect, keep alive, teach.

Protect, keep alive, teach.

I repeat the mantra to myself to keep the guilt and self-loathing away.

I look down on her, still repeating the mantra, and cannot not help but be overwhelmed with desire. It might be desire born of love and necessity, but it was still desire. My mind wanders and sifts through my many options. I could try this any way I want to...as long as I don't hurt her.

I finish the bourbon and set the empty glass down beside the bed. It touches the table silently and rests there.

Something must have alerted her to my watching her, for her eyes have popped open and she smiles for a moment. But I don't hide my thoughts from her fast enough, because her eyes drop below my waist and her face darkens.

"Finnick. What are you doing?" But she knows and it hurts her, that I was standing over her like that.

I sigh deeply and look at the floor with a mixture of shame, worry, confusion and sadness. "Ever, we need to talk. I have been thinking about the things you described to me today..."

"Oh God! Oh God. Finnick!" She screeches in complete horror. "And it made you...That!" She says in disgust, her eyes darting downward before moving back to my face. She springs from the bed, tears filling her eyes and she is pulling her jeans on as fast as she can.

I realize she is going to flee. _No. If she leaves, she'll never speak to me again._

"Wait ...Ever. No. It's not like-"

"Even you Finn. Even _you_? That's all I will ever be to anyone now. Even you!" She sobs and bolts for the door.

"No Ever. No I am not letting you leave like this..." I beat her to the door and hold it closed.

She tries to pull it open anyway even though she has no chance. "Let me out. Finnick please you are scaring me. Please don't hurt me. Finn, not you!" She sinks to the floor eyes wide with terror.

I reach out to her and lift her into my arms just as I always have, but this time she trembles in fear, every muscle tense.

"Shh, it's okay. Listen to me. Ever, baby girl, don't you know I would never hurt you? I couldn't... I would die first Ever." I say soothingly, though I know it will be to no avail.

Her eyes grow cold and dead, hollow. Her voice sounds like a walking corpse. The defeat and sorrow in her words crush my heart into dust. "I will do whatever you tell me. Anything you want, just don't hurt me. Please don't hurt me."

Now it is my turn to sob. "Oh no Ever. You can't say that. You are just asking the sick bastards to kill you baby. Oh god Ever, you are going to get yourself killed if you..."

She looks at me as if I've just made a joke. "Good. The sooner I am dead the better Finnick. I would do it myself but they would kill him if I were to do it. They kill my father and I am done. Not in a week, not a freaking year, but the _minute_ I do something wrong and they kill him, I am done. If they get me first, they can't hurt him for what a client did to me. That is what they want, isn't it? Dead is better."

She pries my arms from around her, leaving me to just stand there in silent horror at her words. I have to take time to fathom just what she is saying. _She...? Dead...?_

It is all I can do to keep from screaming at her. She begins to tear her clothes off in anger, starting with her jeans. She casts her jeans aside before I hurry up to her and hold her arms back so she cannot remove her underwear. "Ever!" I hiss protectively.

"Oh, so you like it like _that _don't you?" She hisses back. "Fine then!" She once again slips out of my arms and gets back on the bed. The straps from her satin camisole are slipping down her shoulders. I am sure she notices this, but she makes no effort to fix it. "Get it over with so I can leave. Don't ever speak to me again after this."

I stand still, unable to speak as she allows the straps of the camisole to fall from her shoulders.

"What are you waiting for, an invitation? You know that's not how it works."

She slips off her underwear and casts it aside.

_She thinks I am going to rape her..._

"Ever," I mouth to her.

"I won't tell Daddy. He trusted you and it would break his heart, or get him killed once he gets finished with you!" She snarls.

"Well? Do what you want so I can leave and pretend you don't exist!"

I sit in a chair next to the bed, mortified. I let the tears flow freely as I plead with her. "Ever. Put your clothes back on. This is what you think of me? God Ever he's right and I am to late! He will make me go with him to ID the- and you don't even understand that I won't survive if I have to see-"

Ever sits up and really looks at me. It must be my tears that finally snap her back to the room."You're not going to rape me?"

I glance at her and I shake my head furiously. "Just put your clothes back on and go. Tell Haymitch I couldn't do it. He will have to find ...someone else to teach you. I can't. Just put your clothes back on." My voice breaks with that last sentence.

Startled, Ever slowly and cautiously dresses again, watching me the whole time. She is acting as if I am tricking her and will pounce if she looks away. She gathers her things and edges toward the door. Her hand rests on it in safety as she stands there for a minute. "I don't understand Finnick. I saw how you looked at me. I know what that means. What did you mean ...teach me?"

I remain silent and unblinking for so long that she takes a few steps toward me and waits. "Finn?"

I take a few deep breaths to control myself. "Your dad thought our jokes had stopped being just jokes. He thanked me for showing you there was something more than brutality and force. I told him the truth and he reminded me what would happen if nobody helped you. I can't let that happen to you!- so I agreed to try. I was trying to put my little sister out of my mind, seeing how beautiful of a young woman you have become. I would never hurt you. But you have to find someone who will teach you how to keep them from hurting you."

"Finnick-"

I hold up my index finger to silence her. "You know he asked me if I would rather see you in the morgue? Now I guess I will someday, because I can't do this against your will. We have to mutually consent to it for it to work and it's not going to happen like this. I won't push you. That is not what this was about. I am sorry to have frightened you."

She takes another step, not wanting to leave me, still not sure why I am not doing what all men do at this moment. "Finnick, I'm sorry. But I don't know what you mean. Why would I want that to happen? Why would my father say that? He _wants_ you to do that to me? That's crazy."

I raise an eyebrow at her. "Ever, women can enjoy you know. I am not a monster. Women here pay to be with me. That's for a reason, you know."

"Yeah! Psycho Capitol women! Don't they hurt you, Finnick? You're...pretty. They hurt pretty things," She says with honest concern.

"They don't hurt me anymore. And they wouldn't keep paying me just to be pretty. I can...do things for you, that will give you a whole different perspective and I can teach you to control your clients rather than falling at their mercy! I can show you how to make them fall in love with you! They won't hurt what they love, Ever, it's as simple as that! But I had to get the little girl, my Ever, out of my head to be able to even hope help you. That's what you saw. Not me thinking of you...in any way that could hurt you. I am sorry you took it wrong. I love you and would never do anything you didn't want."

"Ok then." she says softly.

I say nothing and just bury my face in my hands, not wanting to have to watch her as she leaves.

"What do I do?" she asks softly.

I look at her and shake my head. "You leave and you find someone who you want to teach you."

She comes over to me, sits on the floor beside the chair and rests her light olive hands on my knees. "There is nobody else, Finn. They all promise not to hurt me but it means nothing and that is all that they do. But you're different. You won't hurt me. If you promise, then I believe you. I don't want some random stranger to teach me. I want _you _to teach me."

"Ever," I say with agony before sighing.

"Please Finnick? You and my father are right, I have to learn somehow. So...what do I do?"

_You won, old man. _"First you need to just relax," I tell her, removing her hands from my knees. "Just breathe. No one can hurt you as long as I am here."

"F-Finnick?" She whispers as I move closer to her.

"Yes?"

"I'm scared." She admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

Much to my own disgust, I lick my lips like I do around the Capitol women and give her a seductive but reassuring smile. "Don't be."

"Okay. Just tell me what I have to do."

I shake my head. "Don't think, just act."

I move slowly because she is so very skittish. I kiss her and I soothe her with my most gentle, patient skill. Finally her hard tension begins to fade and she moves closer to me. It takes a long time for her to finally reach out and return even the softest, most delicate touch. I will win her desire. I am Finnick Odair and I do love her enough to take on this burden. I love Ever Abernathy enough to take the hell they have delivered and replace it with the knowledge she needs to live. I will not fail her.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

One sick son of a bitch. That's what I am. Nothing but a sick son of a bitch, albeit a smart one. It takes at least some degree of intelligence to manipulate 23 year old Finnick Odair like I did. All for good reasons of course...

_Then how come I still feel so terrible and so guilty? _It isn't my fault Finnick is the only option. I know that it must be killing him, having to look at Ever like that, but...the alternative is far worse. I've seen some of the bruises and cuts she came back with. She can't last much longer like that. They'll kill her like they have others.

_They'll kill her, Finnick. Please understand. _I sigh and take several large sips from the bottle on liquor in my hand. It's funny, really. I should be able to protect my daughter. I should be able to keep her safe from the sick men after her nightly. But I can't. Instead, I have to resort to the playboy of Panem...great.

If it wasn't for the fact that this is _my _daughter here, it would be kind of hilarious in a sadistic way. A man trusting his baby with a total player. I, personally am waiting for him to pull his 'love-em and leave-em' routine so I can kill him. Would she forgive me for his murder? Perhaps I would be hanged after killing him?

A wave of mixed emotion comes over me and I throw an empty bottle against a wall. I allow myself to sink to the floor and I just bury my face in my hands. The real reason Finnick has to be the one guarding her with his life is because I am too ashamed. Not ashamed of Ever- oh no. Capitol call girl or not, she is still my pride and joy. She isn't why I'm ashamed. It's myself. I can't even look at my little girl without feeling all the guilt.

Maybe I'll be able to face her tomorrow...after I make sure Finnick did his job.

* * *

_Ever..._

I am the first to wake up in the morning. At first, I am not quite sure where I am. All I remember last night was falling asleep in Finnick's room as always, but something was...different. I don't even know if it was a weird, twisted dream or reality. I could always check with Finnick; when he wakes up that is.

"Mm, much better," I sigh as I stretch a little.

My little movement must have woken Finnick, because now he too is waking up. He shifts and the blankets wrapped around me begin to slip off my body...that is when I realize I am kind of naked.

I hasten to pull the blankets back over myself but he won't stop moving so they keep falling down. "Finnick!" I gasp.

"Hm?" He asks with a yawn, turning his head to look at me.

I freeze up, realizing that he too, is quite naked, and the blankets covering me fall into my lap.

He smirks at me. "Good morning to you, too." Ignoring that comment, I look over at him and tell him not to look while I get dressed.

"Oh?" He raises his eyebrows. "Why not? I don't think it's half bad. In fact, it's quite nice." He can't seem to stop looking.

"Please?"

"If it makes you feel more comfortable, then okay." He closes his eyes and covers them with his hands, though, I wouldn't put it past him to be peeking.

I slowly slide out of the bed and search for my clothes.

With his eyes still hidden like I requested, he slowly begins to speak. "You know you don't have to be embarrassed, right? I'm not going to go around bragging about last night, I promise you."

"I'm not embarrassed," I lie. "I actually kind of liked it." That wasn't a lie.

I don't know why I am embarrassed. He has seen me from intimate angles I will never view, but I am almost more embarrassed because of the things that _I_ did. It is embarassing that he didn't make me. It is horrific that he has seen me act like a crazy creature with no desire for him to stop what he was doing. I demanded things that fill me with shame right this minute. Him seeing me naked this morning shouldn't bother me and I am actually wondering if I am even _really _bothered by it.

"No peeking!" I remind him as I walk closer to him in search of my clothes.

"I'm not," He chuckles.

_Yeah...you're so peeking. _All I can find is my panties, so I throw them on. "Um, Finnick?"

"Yeah?" He asks, un-covering his left eye.

"You can open your eyes now, and also, I can't find my bra. Do you know where it is?" I ask, soon noticing I am blushing.

He grins triumphantly. "I think I threw it in that general vicinity," He points to the other side of the bed and I look there but can't find it.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, here-" He gets up- completely naked I might add. I cough to get his attention and my eyes dart downward. He grins then shrugs. "Like what you see, Ever?"

Before I can answer, he throws on a pair of his jeans to cover himself before helping me find my bra. "Ha! See, I told you!" He finds it in the exact area he said it would be and hands it to me.

"Scary how you knew that," I laugh, slipping it on. "Can you hook it up? I can't seem to get it."

"Of course." He says. I think he moves slow on purpose, but I let it slide.

I bite my lip. "Um, I can't find my shirt or jeans. Can I borrow one of your shirts for a few minutes?"

"Yeah, top drawer."

"Thanks, Finn."

I go over to the drawers in the room and grab a grey t-shirt and slip it on and turn around to say something else to him. I admit, I am surprised when I feel a pair of arms wrap around me and pull me close. "Oh Ever, I'm so sorry. I never wanted to have to actually do that. Don't get me wrong, hon it was great. I was just hoping somebody else would have shown you first; forgive me?"

"Finnick I c-"

He turns me around to face him and bends down to my level so his eyes meet mine. He is at least six feet tall and looks a little uncomfortable. "Forgive me," he repeats. "Please?"

I shake my head at him; I can't forgive him because I am not angry with him.

A look of pain flashes across his face as he tightens his grip on my shoulders. His eyes begin to shine with tears but he blinks them back and shakes his head. "You're right. I should have forced you to find someone else to-"

"Finnick," I whisper. "You're hurting me." He gasps and lets go of me and stars to apologize before I shush him. "Don't. Finn, there's nothing to forgive you for."

"What? Nothing to forgive? Ever, I- I treated you like every other man does last night! I-"

"You didn't," I say softly as I press a finger to his lips. "I actually want to thank you. It was a little weird for me, I admit, but you- well, no middle-aged Capitol man could have done that and been so gentle."

Finnick shakes his head slowly and mumbles something unintelligible. I do pick up words like "Sorry...hurt you...forgive..."

"Finnick, please. I am telling you the truth. I liked it, I really did. You showed me the other side of it. It isn't all horror. It was actually good; really good. Finnick it means a lot to me that you would...well, you know, do that for me and not hurt me."

He smiles just a little. "I will never hurt you. I will be here so long as you need me, and even then I will still be anything you need me to be." He hugs me and makes eye contact. "You know that, right?"

I pause. No, I wasn't lying about being thankful. In fact, if it were to happen again, I probably wouldn't protest. But the realization of how different things will be now finally hits me. "Things aren't going to be the same, are they?"

He kisses my forehead like he always has and stands up and pats my shoulder. "Let's not worry about that right now. We will figure out things as we go, they might even be better. Your tributes should still be asleep- if you hurry and go change now, you _might _avoid them, Effie and your father from seeing you half-naked."

I chuckle and thank him again before tossing his key back to him. "Keep it," he says, tossing it back to me. "You never know when you might need it." He winks at me and normally I'd wink back and make a sexual comment but all I do is smile and tell him I will see him later today.

For some reason, our jokes don't seem as playful anymore. _Maybe it's because you actually had sex last night, you think, Einstein? _Shaking my head, I step into the glass elevator wearing nothing but Finnick's shirt over my undergarments. I wrap my arms around myself and lean against the glass. The elvator stops on the seventh floor and I gasp as Johanna Mason steps in.

"Hey Ever." She says nonchalantly. I visibly relax when she seems not to notice my lack of clothes. The elevator stops at the twelfth floor and Johanna smirks. "Things get outta hand with Mr. Odair last night, Abernathy?"

My palms start sweating and my eyes widen. "No." I lie.

She smirks and blocks me from leaving. "Then why are you half naked and coming from District 4s floor?"

"I took a shower last night and an Avox must have taken my jeans form the bathroom," I say, proud at myself for how quickly I made up the lie.

Johanna seems satisfied with my answer so she moves aside and lets me go. "See you around. Good luck with your tributes this year."

"Erm...yeah. Thanks Johanna." _Weird. She didn't try to tear my guts out._

I hurry to my room on District 12's floor and try to find a key. But that's when I realize...I never got to key to my room up here. Which means my stuff must be in my father's room...which means I will have to face him after Finnick and I-

"Ever Abernathy what are you doing half naked in the hallway!" Effie shrieks.

I gasp and start knocking on my father's door. "Effie! Hey how's it g-"

"Where were you last night?"

"I was...obviously not here," I tell her, my voice oozing with sarcasm.

"I don't appreciate your tone."

Infuriated, I allow my District 12 drawl that I work so hard to cover up to become obvious. "Ya think I care what you think? You ain't my mom."

Effie's mouth forms a perfect O-shape. "Here. This is the spare key to his room. I will need it back."

"Too bad," I growl and I unlock the door to his room.

Effie inhales to yell at me some more, but somebody else's voice stops her. "Ever? Where are the rest of your clothes?" Peeta asks.

Katniss is standing there, too, still half asleep but obviously amused at the fact that one of her mentors is wandering about the hallways so indecently and shamelessly.

"Hey. How's it goin'?" I say nonchalantly.

Peeta just shrugs and Katniss stares at me for a second before rolling her eyes then shaking her head in confusion.

_Damn. Now my tributes have seen me half-naked. Thanks a lot Finnick! _"Daddy I need to find clothes." I announce as I push the door open and tiptoe to my suitcase.

There is a half-empty bottle of vodka open on the table and I let out a sigh before hurrying into the bathroom to change. When I walk out of the bathroom, I am expecting him to at least say good morning to me but in fact, quite the opposite happens. His eyes meet mine for a split second when I walk out of the bathroom but then he looks away too quickly for my liking.

_What the heck?_

I walk back out into the hallway and to the elevator to the ground floor. _Why won't my father look at me? Is something wrong with me?_

Does he hate me? Or...does he know something more about last night? Was it really to help keep me alive? Or was it a sick plot invented by my father and my most trusted confidant?

_No, stop Ever. That's just silly, _I think as I walk into the dining hall.

Yeah, but what if it isn't? I have to ask him...next time I get him alone, of course. Right now, I'm too hungry to go back upstairs and talk to him.

_Admit it, Ever. You are also afraid of what your father might say._

* * *

About where Finnick is silently praying to "Aegir ," Aegir is the name of the sea god in Norse mythology


	65. Firebird and the Mockingjay

The Finnick in my head looks a lot like Ian Somerhalder. Than man is just beautiful- I dont' care if he _is _32.

0_0 700 reviews? Whoa. Just, whoa. Thank you! I heart you all!

This chapter is really long and took me a loong time to get right.

Also, this might be my last update for another week or maybe a little more because I will be gone:

1. My sister has a dance rectial all afternoon tomorrow

2. I have a car wash fundraiser to go to Saturday morning, another recital in the afternoon, and I am leaving for Florida to go to my sister's dance competition and to also visit family I haven't seen since I was 6 years old.

3. Lemme see...we'll be in Florida for at least a week, maybe 6 days.

So yeah, enjoy :]

* * *

******Firebird and the Mockingjay**  


* * *

_Your faith in me brings me to tears_  
_Even after all these years_  
_And it pains me so much to tell_  
_That you don't know me that well_

_-Nelly Furtado "I'm Like A Bird"_

* * *

_Ever..._

I poke a cherry tomato around the plate with a fork at breakfast, but I don't eat. Even when Effie, Katniss and Peeta join me I don't eat. Effie keeps pestering me and I keep ignoring her. Katniss takes a roll from the basket and just keeps moving it from hand to hand while she think about something. Peeta, on the other hand, puts on a great act of 'I'm just fine' as he he eats his breakfast.

I wonder if they can tell something is up with me. Can they tell I just slept with one of my best friends. _Of course not, Ever. That's ridiculous. _

Isn't it?

From my peripheral vision, I see the elevator door open. Out step Finnick and my father. They turn a corner and head down the hallway toward the gymnasium instead of coming to the dining hall. I look at Effie and open my mouth to say something before snapping it shut. Effie wouldn't know where they are going, so asking her would be pointless. I just go back to poking the tomato with a fork.

Sometimes I feel like that tomato.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

I am the last up on District 12s floor but am perhaps the least tired when I look to my left. Both of the keys to Ever's room are in here, which can only mean she spent the night with Finnick. So now I am confused. She slept in Finnick's room last night but was it innocent like always or did he actually do it? They must have, because I think I remember Ever walking into my room half dressed to grab some clothes and I found a shirt that isn't mine on the bathroom floor. Then again, she could have just borrowed his shirt for sleeping and she may have forgotten to put her own clothes back on.

That is logical, right?

I shake my head, get up, and throw on jeans and a decent shirt before heading to the elevator. It stops at District 4s floor. Finnick puts one foot in before he looks up and sees me. His eyes widen and he pulls his foot out of the elevator. "I'll catch the next one."

"Oh no you won't," I say, pulling him in. "I need to talk to you."

"Yeah, I figured. That's why-" He moves his foot toward the elevator doors to keep them from closing, so I just pull him back again. "I'm not getting off the hook this morning, am I?"

I glare at him and seethe through my teeth, "Not at all."

The boy swears under his breath and we stand there in awkward silence until the doors open. "This way," Finnick hisses. We look around to make sure nobody is looking right at us before we just go hurrying down the hall.

"Finnick," I whisper sharply.

"Hm?"

"She sees us. Staring, actually."

Finnick looks up for a split second and bites his lip. "Just go, act like you overlooked her."

I nod and follow him down the dark corridor._ Really, they can't turn on a few more lights? This is the Capitol- they have plenty of energy to spare. It isn't like District 12 where most people get a few hours a week. _Whatever. I have more important things to worry about right now.

When we are far enough down the dimly lit hall, I turn to the younger man and demand, "Did you do it?"

He chuckles and grins haughtily. "You mean did I have sex with your daughter last night? Why yes, yes I did."

"And-?" I press. "How was it?"

"Whoa Haymitch, I don't think we should be discussing _all _the details of mine and Ever's sex life."

_That ass clown. He knows what I mean._ My glare does not wipe his smarmy Capitol grin off his face in time to keep my rage in check. I punch him right in the nose, knocking him to the ground. He doesn't retaliate and just holds his hand to his bleeding nose. "I _meant_, did you force her or was it consensual?"

"Of course it was consensual," His voice sounds different now that I've probably broken his nose. "Who would refuse, _this_?" He gestures to his crotch.

I shoot him a look of annoyance. "Be serious. Did you have to force her? And, before you speak again, be aware that my patience for your crap is, at best, near a lethal level."

He is taken aback and wears a look of shock on his face. "Of course not, Haymitch. Finnick Odair doesn't rape. He has happy sex."

"What the shit, Finn! Be serious and stop acting a sexually charged teenage boy!"

He smirks, "Bother you?"

"It won't if you're dead!" Pause. "Did she like it?"

He grins widely, even with a bloody and possibly broken nose. "I'd say she more than just _liked_ it. I didn't even know she said that kind of stuff."

"Finnick! Please." I am shaking with adrenaline, resisting the urge to punch him again, while my voice is smooth, calm and as alarming as orcas.

His snarky and teasing attitude changes into a humble Finnick I have never known to exist. He tears up just a little and smiles. "It was...it was so different than any other time, Haymitch. It was a little awkward at first, but it turned out to be just- just beautiful. She's so giving, and perfect, and so new. I've never been with someone I cared about, never. Annie and I haven't even...and I can't stop thinking about...it's driving me...she's really grown up to be a beautiful young woman, Haymitch."

He begins to pick himself up off the floor. I act friendly again, help him up, and ask him when he will be seeing her again.

"That is up to her. And also, exactly how badly my nose is broken, thanks to you. This is the first step. Now, I have to wait for _her_ to come to _me_, this time. She has to find perfect trust in me and ask. If I push her, suggest it, or even hint at it, she will view me as, well, it won't be good. She'll think last night was just a clever lie to entertain my own sick fantasies."

I nod in understanding. "I get it. Thank you, Finnick. I really am sorry it had to come to that."

He shakes his head. "Please, don't be," He chokes out. "There is nothing to apologize for."

I admit, I wasn't expecting that sort of emotion from him. I almost forget he is Finnick Odair. Almost.

I take a deep breath to release the tension. Ten seconds. That's how far I was was from having a violent breakdown. Of course, not even Finnick could see that.

"Be careful with her, Finnick. Regardless of the fact that she is nearly a grown woman, she will always be my little girl. If you hurt her so help me God, I will kill you slowly and painfuly and I will enjoy every. Single. Solitary. Second. Of. It."

"You must not understand, Haymitch. I. Could. Never. Hurt. Her. I'd die first."

"Good answer," I say before adding gruffly, "Hungry?"

"Yeah...a little."

"Me too...I hope Ever hasn't strangled Effie yet. I told her I wanted to see that." I head back down the corridor to the dining hall, Finnick trailing slowly behind.

* * *

_Ever..._

I jab the cherry tomato with the fork and growl, "Die!" then let out a slightly psychotic giggle.

Peeta chuckles and Katniss' facial expression is a mix between amusement, worry, confusion and anger. Katniss rolls her eyes and says, "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to play with your food?"

I look up at her and answer curtly, "No. She's dead."

Katniss looks down at the roll in her hands and says nothing.

That is when my father decides to join us at the table. I smile, "Good morning, Daddy."

He looks at me for a second before looking away. "Hey,"

_Hey? All I get is a hey?_

The rest of breakfast passes by in silence, then finally, my father leans back in his chair and speaks to the tributes. "So," he starts, "Training. First off, if you like, we'll coach you separately. Decide now."

Katniss stares at him with her usual raised brow, "Why would you coach us separately?"

He shrugs, "Say if you had a secret skill you might not want the other to know about."

Katniss and I look at Peeta at the same time and he responds promptly, "I don't have any secret skills. And I already know what yours is, right? I mean, I've eaten enough of your squirrels."

She blushes and I raise an eyebrow at him. Peeta is from town. He is a merchant child so that means the expensive meats that I grew up eating like beef, chicken and horse. Not that there is anything wrong with eating squirrel-I have eaten several myself. I just wasn't expecting Peeta to have eaten one.

"You can coach us together," she says finally.

"All right," Daddy says. "Are you okay with that, Ever?"

"Of course, D-" I start to call him 'Daddy,' but settle on just 'Dad.' I suppose I should act more like his equal and less like his child around Katniss and Peeta. I turn to them and say, "So, give us an idea of what you can do. What are your skills? Katniss, we already know you are good with knives."

"I can't do anything," says Peeta. "Unless the two of you count baking bread."

"Sorry," my father smirks. He looks to Katniss instead, "Katniss. Can you use anything else besides a knife?"

"I'm actually not that good with a knife, but I can hunt with a bow and arrow."

It is probably obvious that my eyes just lit up. "She can hunt," I say to myself. "That's good."

It falls silent again at Katniss and Peeta look at me like I am psychotic. Maybe I am.

"Ever talks to herself," Daddy explains before asking Katniss if she is any good.

"I'm okay," she says. That is an understatement.

"Nuh uh!" Peeta and I say in unison.

"I have a...close...friend who hunts with your friend Gale sometimes. He's mentioned you once or twice, I think. From what I hear, you're really good."

Katniss mouths his name and now I feel like a jerk because she knows who I am talking about.

"She's excellent," Peeta adds to the argument. "My father buys her squirrels. He always comments on how the arrows never pierce the body. She hits every one in the eye. It's the same with the rabbits she sells the butcher. She can even bring down deer."

For some reason, this pisses Katniss off. "What are you two doing?" She snaps. Peeta is shocked and his mouth hangs agape.

"What are _you _doing? If we are going to help you, then you have to tell us everything!" I snap back.

This gives Peeta the encouragement to speak. "She's right, Katniss. They have to know what you are capable of. Don't underrate yourself."

I bite my lip, feeling a little bad for snapping at her. I reach my hand across the table and gently pat her hand. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for us to double team you. It's just," I take a deep breath and close my eyes to keep from freaking out about the arena. "The arena is tough. Now, of course you know that from watching television. But just because you know it's tough doesn't mean you understand what it is like. I thought I knew exactly what it was like just from television, but two years ago, I found out how wrong I was."

She glares at me, yanks her hand away, and snaps at Peeta. "What about _you_? I've seen you in the market. You can lift hundred pound bags of flour,_ tell them that_! That's not nothing."

"Yes," Peeta replies sarcastically, "and I'm sure the arena will be full of bags of flour for me to chuck at people. It's not like being able to use a weapon. You know it isn't."

Katniss turns from him now, looking to my father and avoiding my eyes completely. "He can wrestle. He came in second in our school competition last year, only after his brother."

"What use is that? How many times have you seen someone wrestle someone to death?"

_Great, now everybody is staring at us. Might as well join in, _"You can snap their necks!"

"There's always hand to hand combat! All you need is to come up with a knife, and you'll at least stand a chance. If I get jumped, I'm dead!" Katniss shouts.

Now, even mild-mannered Peeta is shouting.

"But you won't! You'll be living up in some tree eating raw squirrels and picking off people with arrows. You know what my mother said to me when she came to say good-bye? As if to cheer me up, she says, 'maybe District Twelve will finally have a winner.' Then I realized something. She didn't mean me, she meant you!"

"Oh, she meant you," Katniss sneers back.

"She said, 'She's a survivor, that one.'" He turns to my father and I and shouts, "She is."

Katniss stops then, the argument defeated, her eyes widening and she finally whispers out: "But only because someone helped me."

I wonder what history these two have together. There is obviously something that happened between them in their past. From the sound of it, it seems like Peeta helped her out at some point.

Peeta's voice softens as he tells Katniss, "People will help you out in the arena. They'll be tripping over thier own feet to sponsor you."

"You too!" She exclaims.

"She has no idea," Peeta tell my father, rolling his eyes. "The effect she can have on people."

_Really? _

"Well, then. Well, well, well," Daddy sounds very amused. "Katniss," He starts, "There's no guarantee that there will be bows and arrows in the arena, but during your private session with the Gamemakers, show them what you can do. Until then, stay clear of archery. Are you any good at trapping?"

"I know a few basic snares," Katniss says honestly.

"That may be significant in terms of food." He says, casting me a quick sideward glance in case I have anything to add.

"Peeta," I say softly, tapping the table in front of his hand. He looks up to listen to what I have to say, which makes me smile. Once I am smiling, he smiles too, which makes giving advice much easier. "Katniss is right, never underestimate strength in the arena. People as skinny as me wouldn't stand a chance against someone as strong as you in the arena- even if the only weapon you can find is a knife."

My father adds to this, "Very often, physical power tilts the advantage to a player. In the Training Center, they will have weights, but don't reveal how much you can lift in front of the other tributes. The plan's the same for both of you. You go to group training. Spend the time trying to learn something you don't know. Throw a spear. Swing a mace. Learn to tie a decent knot. Save showing what you're best at until your private sessions. Are we clear?"

Before they can answer, I come up with an idea. "Katniss," I whisper.

She reluctantly turns her head to look at me.

I beckon her closer with a hand motion and our faces are inches from each other as I whisper my idea. "What if instead of completely avoiding the archery station, you try shooting about five arrows _badly_? Just act like it isnt' your forté. Then, when you get to the arena and you turn out to be a kick-ass archer, nobody will know what hit them."

Daddy looks impressed. "That's actually a good idea, sw-" He stops himself from calling me sweetheart. "Ever." Why didn't he call me sweetheart?

I smile and look at him, only to see he's already looked away. "What's that supposed to mean? 'Actually a good idea,' so I usually have _bad_ ideas?"

He chuckles but still avoids making eye contact. "Possibly."

"Since when did I have _bad _ideas?" I ask childishly.

"Three years ago when you and Joshua Hopeflame declared October 13th Hug A Random Pissed-Off-Looking Person Day. You walked up to that kid from the town and his brother threw a ripe apple at your head because he thought you were sexually assaulting him."

Katniss chokes on the bit of the last roll she was munching on. Peeta pats her back until she finishes coughing. "That was you, are you serious?"

"Yeah..." I say slowly.

Peeta seems interested, too. "I saw that! I watched it from the bakery window. That was some funny sh-"

I glare daggers- no- nuclear weapons at him and he corrects his language immediately.

"-iznit."

"Thought so."

My father clears his throat to brings us back to business. "One last thing," He points his finger at Katniss and Peeta when he says: "In public, I want you by each other's side every minute."

Katniss opens her mouth to retort when Daddy slaps the table hard with both palms, "Every minute!" He shouts. "It isn't open for discussion! You agreed to do as we! You will be together, you will appear amiable to each other. Now get out. Meet Effie at the elevator at ten for training."

"Does Ever agree to it?" Katniss retorts.

"Yes." I say quickly. It is better to have _her _pissed at me than my father.

Her nostrils flare as she stands up, kicks the table, and flounces off muttering something under her breath. I only catch little pieces of what she is saying before she is out of earshot. "Stupid...Abernathy...younger than me...mentor my ass..."

Once Katniss leaves the dining hall, I throw my fist in the air in a sort of awkward fist pump gesture. "That's the first time a tribute has been totally miffed at me! Yeah!"

Effie seems miffed at me as well. "That isn't a good thing, Ms. Elizabeth," She says, using my preferred name when in the Capitol.

Peeta raises his eyebrows and whispers to me, "She does know your name is Ever, right?"

"Elizabeth is my middle name." I tell him with a smile.

"Oh."

I smile at him and tell him to have fun for a while. "Don't forget to meet Effie at the elevator on 12's floor-"

"-at ten," He nods.

"Good listener," I note aloud before he walks off.

I feel someone tap my shoulder and I turn around to see it is Johanna Mason. "Finnick told me to give you this," She says with a smirk before explaining. "I read it."

'It' is a tiny shred of paper on it with nine words, a comma, and an exclamation point: I found your clothes, they were under the bed!

I gasp, "Johanna you jerk!"

She smirks again and wanders off. I slip the note to my father and ask, "Daddy, did you know anything about this?"

He knows what I mean, because all he does it look at it quickly and say, "Yes, I did."

"So he wasn't fooling me?" I ask cautiously.

"No. I asked him to," there is a hint of pain in his voice and he even tells me he is sorry.

"Don't be sorry," I say airily.

Effie looks totally lost. "What are you two talking about?"

"Nothing!" We snap in unison.

She rolls her eyes, stands up, and leaves with little more composure than Katniss did. Daddy looks at the clock behind him and excuses himself in a hurry. So great, now I'm alone.

So I think.

It isn't long until I feel another tap on my shoulder. I turn around to see a man who looks to be about 18 standing above me. I can't recall seeing him before, but he is holding little Trinity so he must be from District 9. "Would you mind holding her for a minute? Carrying her into the men's room is just awkward and I can't find my mom anywhere."

"No, not at all." _Yep, one of Raewyn's kids._

He hands me Trinity and gladly take her. I've actually never held a baby before, except for my cousin Ziva. That was five years ago, and even then I had to sit in Uncle Rexton's lap.

_She's so cute_, I think, as the little girl stares at me. She tilts her head to the side as if trying to figure out who I am. "Hey," I coo to her in the most high pitched voice. Really, it is embarrassing.

Holding her gets me thinking about maybe seeing more babies in my future. I doubt I will ever have children, for fear of them being reaped. I do want a husband, though. I have always wanted to get married, and I can afford birth control, so we won't have to worry about 'being careful' about anything. Birth control isn't perfect, though. The only one that is one hundred per cent effective is abstinence and that won't work. So what if the other methods fail and I do, by chance, have a child? Will they be reaped? Will they survive? Or will Snow exempt them from the annual reapings because I was a 'good little prostitute?'

"Thanks for watching her," Says a voice from above me.

"Oh," I say sadly. "No problem-?"

"Taivas," He offers.

"Taivas. That's a cool name. I'm-"

"Ever Abernathy. Everybody knows that," He says as I hand him back his sister.

_Lucky. I want a baby sister. _"I miss the days where I actually had to introduce myself."

"I wish I didn't have to. It's trivial, really." He takes a step closer to me and looks me up and down, sizing me up bit by bit.

"You're...Haymitch's daughter. Right?"

"Right," I say slowly. "And you're Raewyn's son? Taivas...Hemsworth?" I struggle to say the surname without vomiting.

He winces at the sound of William's surname. He seems to hate the man as much as I do; this makes me decide he isn't half bad. "Forsyth. I changed it when my mom changed hers."

"That would make sense," I say. _Awkward..._

He opens his mouth to ask another question, but that's when the elevator opens and Eri steps out, followed by Taivas and Trinity's mother.

The blonde woman sees as talking and from the elevator says, "Stop flirting with Ever, Taivas! She's out of your league!"

He blushes and shakes my hand with his one free arm. "I wans't flirting. Nice meeting you, Ever."

"You too T-" I realize that I have forgotten his name. "You too."

Eri is walking over just as he is walking away and she playfully smacks his butt.

"Eri!" I exclaim.

She smirks and throws an arm over my shoulder. Some of her curly red hair flies in my face and I blow it away from my nose. "Sorry. Long time no see, Ev."

"Yeah, it _has _been a while," Then really low, "How are the nightmares?"

"The ones about the arena aren't so bad, anymore. There's something else, though. I was hoping we could...talk about it in private later today?"

"You can't right now? We can go up to my room and talk." I offer.

Eri shakes her head. "Cruz and I are doing a planning session thing with our tributes once he and they get down here."

"Oh."

She seems really stressed out. "Where can I find you later?"

_If I'm not called away on 'business...' _"I should be either in here, or on the twelfth floor." That of course is a lie. It isn't that I don't want to speak to Eri- I do. She has become my best friend since Ivy's death. It's just, I don't think Finnick would appreciate her bothering him on the fourth floor, so I just left out that possible location.

"Okay, thanks." She slides her arm off the shoulder as the elevator opens. "I'll see you around, Ever."

"See you around."

_I guess I should go get my clothes back from Finnick._

* * *

_Finnick..._

_"I think this is it; she's the one we've been waiting for!" _

_"Haymitch, are you sure?" Asked Seeder._

_"I'm positive. That girl is what we've been looking for, the one to unite the Districts against a common enemy!"_

_"Katniss," Wiress said airily. "The girl who was on..."_

_"Fire." Beetee finished the sentence for her._

The discussion from this year's rebel meeting is still lingering in my head.

That reminds me off a song. "Do you have to, do you have to, do you have to let it linger?" I sing quietly to myself as I step out of the elevator.

"Hey I love that song!" A familiar voice exclaims from behind me.

I scream (a manly scream) and jump a mile. "Ever! Don't do that."

"What, scare you so I can hear you scream like a little girl?"

"Haha very funny."

"Anyway, I came to get my clothes," She says sleepily.

"Tired?" I ask.

"A little."

We walk to the room and despite the fact that chivalry is very dead, I hold the door for her. She finds her clothes on the table, where I put them.

She stands there, holding them for a moment before slowly turning around and dropping them. It's almost inhuman how fast she moves to hug me. "Finnick."

Her soft voice is muffled because her face is buried in my jacket, but I can still hear it breaking. She doesn't pull out of the hug yet. Instead, her grip on my waist tightens. She sniffles and that is when I wrap my arms around her.

"Sh," I whisper. "It's okay, baby. It's okay."

We stand there like that for who knows how long. I play with her hair and whisper soothing words to her as she cries.

With her arms still around my waist, she lifts her head and looks up at me with teary eyes. "Thank you for everything."

I squeeze her lightly for another hug. "Anytime."

She cries a little more and mumbles, "You don't have to, Finn. You're always there...to help me. Always."

I press my lips to her forehead and close my eyes while I kiss her. "I told you before, Ev. I'll always be here."

"Promise you're not going anywhere?" She asks, looking up at me with her chocolate brown eyes.

"I promise," I say firmly. "I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

_Do you have to, do you have to, do you have to let it linger?_

(Quick! Who sings it and what is the name of the song?)


	66. Downpour

I do not own Monster. Meg & Dia own that song, especially Dia. She is an amazing songwriter- I wish I had her skill...sadly, I do not.

The Games will start (most likely) in 2-3 chapters. No more than 4, but most likely 2 or 3 :)

* * *

**Downpour**

* * *

_I'm like the rain in a downpour  
I wash away what you long for..._

_You're like the tide in the deep blue_  
_Cause you're always there when I need you..._

_- Brandi Carlile "Downpour"_

* * *

_Ever..._

I am lying alone on the bed in my room, staring at the ceiling. My songwriting notebook sits wide open beside me, and the black pen I use for writing is just chilling on my chest. This is the first time I've actually had alone time since I've gotten to the Capitol this year- it isn't as relaxing as it usually is.

I decide that I don't very much like being alone, so I decide to try and finish my songwriting in the victor's lounge. Heck, even if the only company I have is a rerun of an old Games and a creepy Career victor, it's better than nothing.

Having decided to move, I snatch up my pen and notebook and head to the elevator. Just my luck, it stops on District 7s floor and Johanna steps in. I try to shrink into a corner, hoping she will overlook me. Not a chance.

She looks and me and smirks, but doesn't say anything.

I glare at her, but otherwise ignore her and she does the same to me. _Good._

The elevator opens and Johanna tosses an envelope in the trashcan. It kind of looks like one of the ones I get when called away on "business." _Is it possible? No, it can't be. This victor sex trade can't be for everybody, can it?_

I hope not.

I wonder for a moment if that is what Eri needed to talk to me about. _Nah. No way they'd make Eri a Capitol whore...I think?_

_Okay Ever, happier thoughts, happier thoughts...oh! _I wonder how Katniss and Peeta are getting along with the other tributes in training.

That's a happier thing to think about...until I realzie they could be making enemies, and putting themselves on every single person's hitlist.

Before actually walking into the victor's lounge, I peek around the corner to see who all is in there. It is empty, and the only voices are coming from the television. They are recapping the 71st games, which I do not really care for, so I turn it off so I can focus on my songwriting.

Confident that I am alone, I quietly sing to myself what I have written.

_His little whispers._  
_Love Me. Love Me._  
_That's all I ask for._  
_Love Me. Love Me._  
_He battered his tiny fists to feel something._  
_Wondered what it's like to touch and feel something._

_Monster._  
_How should I feel?_  
_Creatures lie here._  
_Looking through the window..._

_That night he caged her._  
_Bruised and broke her._  
_He struggled closer._  
_Then he stole her._  
_Violet wrists and then her ankles._  
_Silent Pain._  
_Then he slowly saw their nightmares were his dreams._

_Monster._  
_How should I feel?_  
_Creatures lie here._  
_Looking through the windows._  
_I will._  
_Hear their voices._  
_I'm a glass child._  
_I am Hannah's regrets._

_Monster._  
_How should I feel?_  
_Turn the sheets down._  
_Murder ears with pillow lace._  
_There's bath tubs._  
_Full of glow flies._  
_Bathe in kerosene._  
_Their words tattoed in his veins, yeah._

"I've never had the honor to hear you sing _live_ before, Ms. Ever. What's that one called?"

I gasp and blush, recognizing the voice. "Eri! Monster."

"Awesome."

"What's up?"

She forces a smile. "Nothing. I was just looking for you, that's all."

I put my notebook inside my purse and turn to Eri. "So. What was it you needed to talk to me about?"

She purses her lips and hastily says, "It's silly, really. It is wrong if me to ask you. You probably know nothing about it, anyway. I- I mean, you're_fourteen_ so it's not like-"

"Eri. You can ask me anything." I tell her in all seriousness.

Eri sighs and whispers, "President Snow paid me a visit this summer. He wants me to be a Capitol...well, he used some proper word it but-"

"He wants you to be a whore, right?" I offer bluntly.

Her face pales. "How did you-"

"Eri. Last summer, Snow paid me a visit too. He wanted me to do the same thing. I had no choice but to accept. Please tell me you didn't-"

"I declined at first, Ever. He said I'd be sorry and I'd think twice about refusing the offer."

"And-?"

"I came home one day to find Cainwen ( my oldest little sister) dead on the kitchen floor. The official cause if death is carbon monoxide poisoning, but I know better. Then there was an explosion at the factory I use to work at. My only three friends from home were killed in the explosion. My other sister fell sick with some disease I can't even name...Ever it was terrible. I finally accepted when she got sick. I hoped- maybe in vain- that accepting his offer would cure her. It did, but...she is now blind. Whatever she fell sick with caused it. Snow forced me into some...some type of victor sex trade! I just don't know why he'd go as far as killing Cainwen and rendering Adaren blind just so Capitol men can-"

"Trust me, Eri. There is no limit to what Snow is willing to do to get what he wants."

"I see that now." Eri says, her voice breaking.

I kick my notebook to the floor and pull my friend into a hug. "I'm sorry, Eri. It sucks, I know...you can always come to me."

Though I know I will be no help, either. She would really need to talk to Finnick. He would have to help her, but...I'm not too sure that I should be volunteering his "services."

She shakes her head. "I'd never bug you about every little thing. Besides, I know how to handle men."

I raise my eyebrows at her. "Eri, you've done that before?"

"Yeah. My District partner last year was my fiancee."

"Baines?" I ask in disbelief.

"Uh huh."

I look down, feeling really sorry for her. "I'm...sorry."

"Don't be. It was one of those arranged marriage deals between his parents and mine. I always hated him, but...we had to act in love, even behind closed doors."

"I get it."

"Right...anyway. So how long have you been in the victor sex trade, exactly?"

I frown and give her my honest answer. "A whole year."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I've had somebody helping me out through the whole thing."

Eri is curious. "Who?"

I smile, "That's a secret."

She smiles back, "I guess you're allowed to have _some_ secrets." She slowly stands up and begisn to walk out.

"Hey, Eyre?" I say softly.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about your sisters. Really, I am."

She frowns then smiles weakly. "It isn't your fault, Ever. Anyway, I gotta go. I've been requested."

"Be careful," I warn her. "You have no idea what they are capable of."

_Take it from someone who knows, _I think as I look at the scar on my shoulder I received from a client about a year ago.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

"But Haymitch, if you're so sure Katniss Everdeen is the one we've waiting on, how do you expect her to win?" Cecelia questions.

I glare at her, "She supplies seventy per cent of the District with meat that she hunts herself. Her aim is nearly perfect and she has the drive and determination. She is as stubborn as an ox, mind you, but determined."

"You also need..." Wiress says.

"Some measure of brainpower to win the Games." Beetee says.

"Now hold on," Finnick interjects. "Not saying Katniss Everdeen is a genius or anything, but she wouldn't have volunteered if she knew she had absolutely zero chance of winning."

"It was to save her sister, Finn-O." Mags points out.

"Yes, but if I had a brother and he was reaped, I wouldn't volunteer for him if I knew without a shadow of a doubt I'd die."

"But you _wouldn't _die, Finnick." Johanna says with fake gaga eyes. "Even the Capitol men wanted to do you- they wouldn't let you die even if you wanted to. It'd be a shame to let all that sexiness go to waste." She pinches his ass and laughs when he lets out a noise of surprise.

"Hey! Touch my ass again and you'll die!" Finnick shouts as he turns his back to Mags so Johanna won't do it again.

She smirks and whispers so only myself, Mags, Beetee and Finnick can hear. "So only middle-aged housewives and fourteen year old girls can do it, eh?"

I contemplate punching her over her not-so-subtle attack at my daughter. The right thing to do would be to not punch her since she's a woman and all, but she's the manliest person I've met in my life- surely punching her can't be that bad. Although punching her would bring me much joy, I go against the little devil on my shoulder and keep my fists clenched at my sides.

"Johanna, shut up!" Finnick hisses.

"I'm sorry Finnick. I see I'm not worthy of touching your ass." She bows in mock respect.

"Can we _please_ stop talking about my bum? I know it's amazing, but, geez."

_Smack! "_No."

"Mags!" Finnick exclaims, obviously not expecting the seventy-eight year old woman to copy Johanna.

"Sorry Finn-O. Couldn't resist." She grins her toothless grin and even Wiress and Beetee are holding their sides laughing.

Finnick rolls his eyes and backs up against the wall.

I think everyone in the room jumps when Plutarch Heavensbee shouts, "Focus!"

Chaff even screams.

Like a girl.

Plutarch clears his throat and says, "Haymitch. If Katniss Everdeen _does _turn out to be our secret weapon, I will do everything I can to aide her survival in the arena. I can send poisonous snakes after her enemies, or perhaps use mutts similar to the fox mutts I used in the sixtieth Games."

I let out a sound of disgust at the mention of the sixtieth Games and Plutarch notices.

"Right. I'm sorry, I forgot those Games brings back...memories." He apologizes hastily.

"Those fox mutts were brilliant," I say honestly. Really, they were.

Plutarch looks proud of himself. "Why thank you, Haymitch."

I smirk, "Too bad the girl that won had more brains that you and those foxes."

He doesn't give me the offended reaction I was hoping for. Instead, he smiles and admits that the girl from District 9 did give him and those foxes a run for their money. "Trust me, Haymitch. If I use that idea again, they will be even better than last time. All for the purpose of helping Ms. Everdeen, of course."

I chuckle to myself and Plutarch asks me what is so funny. "It's funny that I am here trying to convince everybody that Katniss Everdeen Panem's only hope, when my favorite is the boy. Less annoying."

* * *

_Ever..._

Hila comes by just after the tributes get out of training to hand me an envelope. "Hila-" I say in an agonized voice.

She presses a finger to my lips. "I know."

With that, Hila turns and walks away. I open the little white envelope and read the note that is inside it.

_Ms. Elizabeth Abernathy,_

_Your services have been requested for tonight by Mr. William Hemsworth. You will be picked up half an hour after dinner and are expected to stay for however long he requires. I know you will not mess up, Ms. Abernathy. One wrong move._

_-President Cornelius Snow_

I tear the note into eights and toss the shreds into the trashcan.

"What are you ripping up?"

I scream and jump, reaching to my side where I would keep a quiver of arrows when hunting. Then I realize that I have no quiver of arrows and my life is not in danger. "Nothing, Peeta." I say kindly. "Just something from Snow."

"Is it nothing? Or is it something from Snow?"

"Both. Look, don't worry about it, Peeta. Your mind should be focused on the Games and nothing else, right now."

He nods and smiles politely. "Gotcha." He goes off to get something for dinner.

Katniss walks past me with a gruff, "Hey Ever." She must still be angry at my father and I for this morning. _Oh well. There are worse things in life than annoying mentors._

Like William Hemsworth.

~.*

I excuse myself from dinner early to go up to my room and prepare myself for this evening. As disgusting as it is, I have to. It's all part of the deal, I suppose.

I carefully curl my short chestnut brown hair and arrange it neatly. I smooth out nonexistent wrinkles in my black skirt and slip into the one and a half inch heels that match it. How Effie can walk in six inch heels is beyond me- I trip before I even take a full step.

Some wonderful prostitute I am...

* * *

_Finnick..._

I am alone at the small bar downstairs as I knock back my third glass of whiskey. The glass bottle on my left has plenty left in it and it is in my hand as soon as the smaller glass in back on the bar in front of me. I begin to pour the amber liquid into the glass, but pause when I hear the elevator ding, signifying it is open.

Slowly, I turn my head to see who it is. _Shit!_

I try to hide the bottle of whiskey under my jacket just in case she has seen me...which she hasn't. _Yet._

She almost walks right by me, but she trips over her own feet and nearly faceplants. I place the whiskey back on the bar and hurry to help her up. She scowls at me, "I could have gotten myself up."

I glance at my feet. "You tripped in one and a half inch heels? That's sad."

"I'd like to see _you _try and walk in these things." She retorts, smoothing our wrinkles in her skirt, a grim expression on her face.

"Hey." I say gravely as I gently tilt her head up so that we make eye contact. "I meant what I said about you being allowed to come to me for anything, anytime. If- if you need to talk or just hug afterwards, you know where to find me."

"Thanks, Finn." She says, wrapping her arms around me for a short embrace.

"Be careful," I command, kissing the the top of her head before she leaves.

_Please don't hurt her, not tonight._

* * *

_Ever..._

My hand travels slowly down my cheek, causing the ribbon of crimson to disfigure. My blood starts to seep into my mouth, and I spit it out into the bathroom sink. I want to cry. I want to fall to the ground and bawl like a baby...but I don't.

The man that did this to me stands right behind me, as if he takes some sort of pleasure in physically assaulting me after violating me. He probably does.

I lower my head closer to the bathroom sink and turn the faucet on, trying to rinse the taste of blood out of my mouth. He lowers his hand onto the back of my head and slams my face into the marble surface. I let out a yelp of pain and he utters a very guttural sound of approval.

He mutters something that I think is supposed to be a compliment, but I just find is creepy and disgusting.

"Can I put my clothes back on, now?" I whisper inaudibly.

"What was that, kitten?" Hemsworth inquires in a syrupy-sweet voice.

I want to vomit at the nickname. "Can I put my clothes back on, now?"

He grabs me by the hair and pulls my head up. "I'm feeling generous today. Get your clothes on and leave," he pushes me towards the wall and I hit it with my head. Hemsworth smirks and adds, "Little bitch."

I can't throw my clothes back on fast enough.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

Ever has been gone since after dinner- I know what that means...

I sit on the edge of the bed in my room with her favorite stuffed animal in my hands. She must have dropped it on the floor when she came in for clothes this morning and forgotten it. Even I can't help but to smile at the little purple bunny.

Floppity has been with her through everything; I think she's had him since the day she was born. I've nearly really gotten the attachment children have to material things like stuffed animals and blankets. I remember my younger brother carried around a little cat everywhere, but I stopped carrying that same cat around when I was four. Ever is...how old now? Fourteen?

What does the purple bunny do for her, anyway?

Floppity couldn't prevent her name from being drawn out of the reaping ball. He can't prevent her from being raped every night. He can't give her advice on how to survive it.

_Worthless children's toy._

Yet, I don't put it down. Maybe the purple bunny does help her- just not in the most obvious way. Maybe, Floppity is the last piece of an innocent childhood that was robbed from her. Perhaps it provides some sense of that childlike security I once envied her for.

God knows how badly she needs it.

She has nightmares. Nearly every night. Nightmares about the Games, about prostitution, and about nearly anything else. They're terrible. When they happen, there is nothing more I'd love to do than wake her up, hold her, and tell her it is just a dream, just like I would do when she was a little girl.

That would just do more damage than good. I would know it is a lie and she would, too.

There was this one extremely bad nightmare she had a week or so prior to the reaping. She screamed and violently kicked some invisible predator. It felt like it went on for hours, though in reality, it must not have been more than ten minutes.

I don't even know if I should be happy that the arena isn't in her dreams anymore, because I think that the prostitution is far worse.

The worst part is I can't help her; luckily someone else can. I don't want to think about what would happen to her if that man from the fishing District wasn't around._ I doubt it'd be anything pleasant._

* * *

_Ever..._

"By a show of hands, who else is tired of this crap?" I ask as I stare at the closed silver doors of the elevator. I raise my hand and sigh, knowing nobody else is around. The blood on the side of my face is still fresh, and my head still hurts from being slammed into the sink and the wall.

The elevator doors ding open. I sigh as I step in and rest my finger on the '12' button. Shaking my head, my finger moves to the four button and presses it instead.

The walk to the room at the end of the hall is so automatic now, it's almost funny.

Forgetting I have a key, I knock on the door and wait to hear it unlock. Before he opens the door, I cover the right side of my face with my hair. The door opens and he greets me with a hug and a, 'you alright?'

"Yeah," I lie. "Although, um, do you by any chance have some type of painkiller on you?"

His face falls when he demands to know what happened.

"Nothing," Another lie. "I just tripped and hit my head somewhere, and it hurts."

He isn't buying my story, but he motions for me to follow him to the other side of the room. He opens a drawer and pulls out a small, plastic container of pills and squints to read to label in the dimly lit room. He nods and turns it to find the printed safety label.

Finnick clears his throat, "Do you consume three or more alcoholic drinks per day?"

"What? No."

He grins, "Are you pregnant?"

"Do I _look_ pregnant to you?" I ask, massaging my head.

"Are you breast-feeding?"

"I have never given birth, _jackass_."

Finnick laughs, "Okay then,_ dumbass_. Are you a child under the age of twelve?"

"Don't make me hit you."

"Are you allergic to acetaminophen?"

"I don't think so. No."

"Can you open up a child-proof lock?"

"Yes."

He tosses me the pills and tells me to take one.

"Where did you even get these?" I ask him as I grab a glass of water and swallow the pill.

"Capitol. Every year I come here and stock up." He says.

I spit the second sip of water all over him and giggle. "That doesn't sound addict-y at all."

"Saliva! Yuck! They don't sell over-the-counter stuff in the Districts. Which is stupid, because they're so awesome."

"Yeah...you're an addict." I joke slowly.

He laughs and messes with my hair, "Whatever, ki- what the-! What happened to your face?"

The cut made by William Hemsworth's knife is now visible to him, along with the blood still dripping from it. "Don't worry about it."

He scoffs, "'Don't worry about it?' Like hell I'm not going to worry about it! Ever, this is exactly the thing I'm working to protect you from."

When I am silent, his voice softens. "Are there more cuts?"

"No."

"You'd better not be lying."

"I am not." I say, glaring at him.

Finnick sighs. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to accuse you of anything."

"Don't apologize. You always apologize when there's no reason to." I try to hide my annoyance as I tell him this.

"I- I do not! Do I?" He says unsure.

"Yeah, you do. Like when you were apologizing this morning."

He inhales sharply, not expecting me to bring that up again. "I guess you're right," he admits. He sits down beside me and grabs my hand. "Anytime you need me. Any_thing_, remember?"

With a smile, I tell him 'yes.' I stand up and kiss him on the cheek. He hasn't shaved in a few days, so it kind of tickles. "Goodnight, Finnick."

"Goodnight, kid. See you tomorrow?"

"No, I was planning on chilling with Brutus and Enobaria tomorrow."

"Oh, well sucks for me. Eff my life!" He jokes.

I giggle and open the door. "See you tomorrow."

* * *

_Haymitch..._

Ever walks out of her room the next morning the same time I do. Her lips curve upward into a smile as she says good morning.

I want to be able to look at her and smile, but I can't. A mumbled 'good morning, Ever' is all I can manage.

Her face falls and she looks hurt. "No sweetheart?"

"Sorry...good morning, sweetheart." I say halfheartedly.

"That's better. I guess," She says before hurrying to the elevator. I follow behind her, but stand in a different corner than she does.

Surprisingly, Katniss and Peeta are already downstairs. _Not _surprisingly, Effie is glaring at us from the second moment the elevator opens, and then until we sit down. I roll my eyes at her as she lectures us;

"As mentors and representatives of your District, the two of your should _really_ be on time! At least get here before your tributes do! It's bad etiquette. Just terrible! Here I was hoping the two of you, as victors, could overcome the horrid trends of your District and soak up some of the Capitol lifestyle-"

Ever scoffs, "_Capitol lifestyle_? Like what? Dying our skin green and wearing stupid pink wigs?"

Effie's entire disposition changes so quickly, it's inhuman.

Cinna and Portia stifle laughs, Katniss smirks, and Peeta bites his lip. I just sit there staring at the two women, waiting for Effie's response.

She clears her throat. "I'll have you know Ms. _Abernathy_, that this wig is in style. It is only the hottest fashion trend. Not like _you'd _know anything about fashion and beauty."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ever snaps.

_Is she trying to call my daughter ugly?_

Effie has an annoyed expression on her face when she clarifies her statement. "You wouldn't know beautiful if it fell from the sky and hit you in the face."

Ever's jaw drops and she raises and eyebrow. "Meaning-?"

Effie doesn't answer right away. Instead, she just stares.

Cinna puts his fork down and he looks from Ever, to Effie, to Portia, to me and repeats. Portia's eyes shift from Peeta to Cinna, examining their faces. I almost smile when I see Katniss's face- thoroughly entertained.

* * *

_Katniss..._

This is amazing! The most fun I've had in the Capitol. This will never get out to anybody else, but I've always been a closet fan of observing drama. I absolutely hate it when the drama is happening to me, but fights like Effie and Ever's entertain me.

I wish the Capitol camera were recording this. Then I'd ask for a tape so I could play it over, and over, and over again. I will never _not _laugh when I think about this.

Mostly because my mentor just made Effie Trinket show emotions other than peppy and, 'ohsohappy to watch you all die.'

She clears her throat. "I'll have you know Ms. _Abernathy_, that this wig is in style. It is only the hottest fashion trend. Not like _you'd _know anything about fashion and beauty."

She says 'Abernathy' like it's a curse- giving Haymitch's example of the family name, I don't blame her.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ever snaps.

I wince. She's so annoying when she snaps at people; I find her annoying almost every time she opens her mouth. However, I do hope she wins this dispute.

"You wouldn't know beautiful if it fell from the sky and hit you in the face," the escort says bluntly. Isn't an 'escort' something similar to a hooker?

_Haha, Effie! At least Ever Abernathy isn't a whore! _Is my smug thought. I miss what Ever says next; it must have only been a word or two, so I think I'll survive.

Effie doesn't answer her right away. Instead, she just stares. Everybody looks around the table at their tablemates. Except for me. I'm just watching, waiting for one of them to slap each other.

The woman in the pink wig allows an evil grin to slowly creep onto her face before she answers Ever. "By that I mean- well, just look at you! You are fourteen and could easily pass for eighteen if you made the necessary alterations. And with some slightly more _surgical _alterations your could pass for a_slightly attractive _eighteen year old."

The fourteen year old grits her teeth. "Oh?"

Effie continues, very loudly, so that everybody in the dining hall can hear. "Yes, yes of course! You see, you must do something with your hair. The color is just horrible, and don't even get me started on the style- there _is _none! Really Ever, at least getting layers would do so much. Your eyes- poor child!- your eyes. Dark brown eyes are weird are _soo _five years ago. Purple eyes are all the rage in the Capitol, but blue eyes are preferred in the Districts. You need to fix that.

Have you been gaining weight? You were so much skinnier last year. I am kind of worried- I do hope yo uare not overeating. The extra weight gain didn't even do anything to improve the size of your breasts! What size bra do you wear anyway? Double A, perhaps?

You walk like a drunken penguin.

Your eyebrows need waxing, and your lips are too small and need to be more plump. Worst of all, is your nose. It's far to large for your small head."

Effie finishes her completely false and exaggerated critique with a satisfied look on her face.

Ever looks really hurt by what Effie just said. Her bottom lip begins to quiver.

_Oh, shoot! No Ever! Kick Effie's double-A-breasted-butt!_

* * *

_Ever..._

I process what Effie says as she says it. I think I can fairly say I wasn't expecting her to be so harsh. However, none of it really hurts me, not even the fat comments.

Until she mentions my nose. I've always thought my nose was too big. Josh, my father and Kenton always tell me it's fine but of course I don't believe them.

My hands cover my nose immediately after the words leave Effie's mouth. She grins smugly as she sees the damage her words have done.

Daddy glares at her and opens his mouth, but closes it when I stand up and throw a punch at Effie. She dodges, but just barely. I feel somebody walk up behind me. I turn my head to see who it is.

Correction. There are two somebodies.

Aeneas is closest to me. "What was all of that? I know you didn't just call her fat."

"I believe I did."

Aeneas smirks and slips his arms around me. I gasp as he grabs my chest. "Nope, definitely _not _double A's."

"Hey!" Says the second person behind me, coming to the rescue. _Like always._

Aeneas jumps a mile.

I turn around to see who it is, and smile and mouth his name.

"I _know _they aren't double A's because _I'm_ the only one allowed to touch those!" Gasps and laughter fill the room, and I watch him punch Aeneas in the face. I thank him with a relieved smile.

He winks at me, "You're beautiful, kid."

"Thanks," I blush.

"C's at least."

"Oh-kay! Katniss, did you and Peeta mingle with the other tributes any?" I ask, changing the subject.

"I didn't, really. Peeta made some friends, though." She says nicely.

_Is it possible we can be civil after all?_


	67. More Than Useless

Forgive my bad attempt at writing the...well, you'll see when you get there.

* * *

**More Than Useless**

* * *

_Whats the purpose? It feels worthless  
So unwanted like I've lost all my value  
I can't find it, not in the least bit  
and I'm just scared, so scared that I'll fail you_

_- Relient K "More Than Useless"_

* * *

_Ever..._

Day two of training.

I wave good-bye and good luck to Katniss and Peeta as they head of to the gymnasium.

"I hope they don't epically fail at socializing." I say to Daddy. He looks away and says nothing.

"Oh, like _you_ socialize any better," Effie snaps.

"Excuse me?" I snap.

"I'm sorry, let me put this in a way you can understand. No-bo-dy likes you!" She makes these cavemanlike hand motions.

"Yeah, hey Effie? No need to translate. I speak betch. Fluent in it, really." I tell her with such attitude it shocks me.

She huffs and haughtily flounces away, muttering obscenities directed at me. Daddy seems pleased. He smirks, "Nice job, sweetheart. But you do realize she will be back, right?"

"Yep," I say, grabbing Finnick's jacket and swinging it over my shoulder. "Which is why I am going to go...dot dot dot."

I add a smirk, "See ya."

* * *

_Haymitch..._

Ever smirks and walks away, acting very teenage-like. When did that happen? She's never acted like that before.

I shake my head and tell myself that freaking out over this one display of normal teenage attitude is completely ridiculous. If anything, I should be relieved. She hasn't acted her age in way too long.

Still. Bratty, mysterious teenagers? I didn't sign up for that.

* * *

_Ever..._

I stand in the shower with about ten minutes to go until lunch with the tributes. Something Eri said on her victory tour doesn't add up to what she confessed yesterday. On the victory tour, she told me Snow paid her a visit and told her I've taken the burden of the Capitol men for her...now she's saying Snow visited her again, changed his mind, and hurt her sisters?

That doesn't add up.

I shake my head and tilt it back into the water flowing from showerhead. Steam fogging up my vision, I feel around for the buttons that turn the water off. It must take me five minutes just to find the group of three small silver buttons. Idiot of the hour award goes to...me!

I throw on the same clothes I was wearing earlier today and dry my hair just enough to where it looks decent. Forget having lunch with the District 12 crowd. I need to talk to Eri as soon as possible.

Right as I step out of my room, my father and Raewyn step out of his. I play the part of responsible parent and give them a look of disapproval- because we _all _know what they were doing in there.

Daddy rolls his eyes and shake his head, "Shut up, Ever."

Raewyn just starts laughing and smiles at him. "You have to admit, she's funny."

"You're no help, are you?"

"No, not at all," she says with a vacant expression.

"Anyway, as fun as this somewhat awkward situation is, I need to go find Eri. Any idea where she might be?" I ask the blonde.

She thinks for a second, then nods. "Yeah, she's either eating already or in the victor's lounge reading a book."

"Thank you," I say, turning and hurrying to the elevators.

* * *

_Eri..._

_Dreams are the bright creatures of poem and legend, who sport on earth in the night season, and melt away in the first beam of the sun, which lights grim care and stern reality on their daily pilgrimage through the world._

How true those words, penned by the long since passed Charles Dickens, are. I've been more sensitive to written words since I've won the Games. At least the Capitol has done one good thing for me. Feeling like one has superior intelligence is a great ego-booster.

"Dreams are the bright creatures of poem and legend," I begin to quote aloud. "Who sport on earth in the night season-"

"-and melt away in the first beam of the sun, which lights grim care and stern reality on their daily pilgrimage through the world." Finishes a second voice.

I look up from my old tattered copy of _Nicholas Nickleby _to see Ever Abernathy standing in the open door frame of the victor's lounge. I can't help but to smile at my younger friend. "You read?"

"Avidly." She says with a smile as she sits down.

"I take it you've read this book more than once? You knew that quote by heart."

Ever gets a happy look in her brown eyes. "It's one of my father's favorite books."

"Whoa. Haymitch Abernathy reads?"

"Not as much as I do. He maybe gets through four or five books a year- that's less than I can read in a week. He and I both like the irony and the social satire in the book. It's something that can be privately related-"

"-to Panem today. That's what Raewyn said when she let me borrow the book...two months ago."

Ever chuckles and sits down next to me without saying another word. We sit in silence for about half a minute before she turns to me. "Eri, I know this isn't something you'd like to talk about, but...on your victory tour, you told me Snow told you that I took the burden of prostitution for you. But now you're saying he's forced you into the vcitor sex trade?"

I sigh. "I was hoping you'd of forgotten that. Snow changed his mind. Decided natural redheads are a rare thing, and Capitol men love redheads. Honestly, I think he was planning on selling me from the start."

"That's how Snow works," Ever sighs.

"Yeah."

A somewhat awkward silence follows. "Hey Eyre?"

"Hm?"

"Do you have a ponytail holder I can borrow?"

"Here," I pull my purple ponytail holder from my hair and hand it to her.

"Thanks Eyre. I'll see you later."

* * *

_Ever..._

I knew it.

I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!

Eri not being forced into the world's oldest profession was just too good to be true.

I walk out of the victor's lounge and tie my hair up in a ponytail. I search the dining hall for Finnick, but can't find him.

My mind keeps wandering back to the night we spent together two nights before. He and I both know that in order to give me the tools to survive my stint as a Capitol ho it would have to happen more than just once. I am sure that that was also what my father had in mind when he asked Finnick to help me in the first place. The fact that it is all I've been able to think about for the past forty-eight hours scares me, but also makes me blush.

All throughout lunch, I just shove the salad around my plate. I think I actually eat maybe one or two leaves before pushing it aside and excusing myself.

Finnick is obviously waiting for me to come to him about it this time. I get one of those warm fuzzy feelings at the realization that he really meant it when he said he was here for me, and would be anything I needed him to be. I couldn't have chosen a better person to put my trust in.

With a small smile, I step into the elevator and press the button labeled '4'. The elevator stops at his floor without stopping on floors one, two, and three. I am relieved, because the last thing I need is gossip and rumors about the two of us floating around. Granted, those rumors would likely be true. Nonetheless, neither of us want them to start circling around- especially me.

Shrugging the possibility of the nasty gossip off my shoulders, I walk to his room at the end of the hall. I pull the purple hair tie out of my hair and slide it onto my wrist. I swallow nervously before pulling my key to his room out of my pocket and shaking my head in disbelief. I cannot believe I am actually going to be asking him for the very thing that I was once completely disgusted by. Heck, I still am, for the most part.

I fiddle with the lock until it clicks open and I turn the door handle and push open the heavy door. Just as I hoped, he is already there. In his hand is a sleeve of salted crackers. He sets it down on the table and looks up to see who walked in. His eyes light up when he sees me.

"Hey! It's been for freakin' _ever_!"

With a chuckle, I wrap my arms around him in a hug. "Yeah, twelve hours is way too long to not see me. I have no idea how you manage the year-long separation."

He smiles and kisses my forehead and whispers, "Exactly." He pauses. "So what's the real reason you're here?" He queries, licking his lips then smirking.

_Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh. I shouldn't have come here, he's probably just as confused as I am-_

"Finnick...I want you to do it again." I say quickly, without thinking. _Why did I say that?_

He raises his eyebrows and asks me what I mean; although he already knows.

"I wouldn't mind a repeat of the other night." I say bluntly. _Nice way to dig yourself a deeper hole, Ever._

Finnick's face softens to the same gentleness he usually has when talking to me. "Are you sure that is what you want?" He asks, taking my hands in his.

"Are you trying to dissuade me?"

He shakes his head. "No, not at all. If we do this, want it to be your choice, Ever."

"Do you want to?"

"Only if you do. You're beautiful hon, but I only want you like that when you need me to. I've told you before; anything you need me to be anytime you need me." The sincerity in his voice erases any doubts. I think he understands that, but he still gives my hand a gentle squeeze and whispers, "_You_ are in total control here."

I make my decision quickly. "Thank you for letting me have a choice. For once in a long time I am in control of something."

He just smiles wider and give my hand another reassuring squeeze.

"The final answer is yes. Yes, Finnick. I want this...now."

He smirks and purrs, "Well then. In that case, my turn first."

Finnick pulls me closer and kisses me. It catches me a little off guard, but I wrap my arms around his neck without missing a beat. Slowly, he pulls his lips away from mine. He smiles down at me and looks at me with want. I step even closer to him and slowly tilt my head up to kiss him. Finnick's kisses are gentle and sensual. He is careful not to hurt me in any way. I love it, but demand more from him by fiercely returning his kisses. He gets the message and in one quick movement, we are on the bed.

"Tell me to stop, Ever." He whispers.

"No." I tell him.

"Please? I won't be able to later."

"What are you so worried about?"

There is a gentleness and a tinge of pain in his eyes when he answers, "That I might fail you."

"You won't. That's impossible." I assure him.

"Okay," He mouths, pushing my dark hair from my face and pressing his lips to mine.

I don't know what it is that makes me not shy away from him. It takes me no where near as long to return his adoration as it did last time. I realize just how perfect he is. Every move he makes is full of love; not the desire to control and overpower me. He is so different than the other men. So kind, so loving, so beautiful. Finnick loves me enough to make sure I am happy and not in pain. If that's not a characteristic of the best man alive then I dont know that is. And he's _my_ Finnick. He belongs to _me_.

At least at the moment.

* * *

_Finnick_...

Our naked bodies lie close together, tangled in the sheets after our love-making. Her head rests on my chest as I play with her damp hair. She smiles as I give her another soft kiss and say, "That was fun."

She pretends to be offended and sits up. "Fun? Just fun?." She moves away from me and curls up on the opposite side.

"Aw, don't be like that. Come here." I say, patting the spot right next to me.

"Um...nope. Not after you just called that 'fun.'"

I reach over and pull her over to me. My arms slip around her waist as she turns to face me. "Not _just_ fun, Ever. It was amazing, you know that. You were just so...perfect and giving and- I enjoyed you. Maybe a little more than I should have, but I did."

She is confused, but stays in my arms. "What do you mean by enjoying me too much?"

I shake my head. "Don't worry about it."

"Finnick, please. We don't keep things from each other. Tell me?"

On a whim, I tangle my fingers in her hair and kiss her. I untangle my fingers from her hair and pull away. "I'm sorry. That's what I mean by too much."

"I'm still confused."

"I enjoy my time with you. Too much. I'm taking...pleasure from you, a child. It's not right."

"Enjoying it isn't a bad thing. You're protecting me the only way you can You're showing me it can be a good thing." She inches closer to me and puts her head on my chest.

"You've done so much for me, Finnick. I wish I could do something for you in return. Nothing I can think of is good enough."

I shake my head and press her head closer to my chest, and rest my head on hers. "Then stop thinking of something. You don't have to do anything. You already do enough."

"What do you mean?"

"Ever, you're you. You're here. Most people in your situation would've given up. But you haven't."

"Yeah, but I make you fix everything."

"I don't mind."

"I know you don't."

"Exactly, so don't worry about it."

That keeps her quiet for about twenty minutes as we just cuddle. She sighs contently and smiles up at me. "I love you, Finnick."

I swallow the lump in my throat that her confession brings. We've said 'I love you,' many times before, but it's never been as intimate at this. I kiss the top of her head and push her hair from her bare shoulders. "I love you too, kid."

"Best friend in the world." She adds.

"I doubt I'm the best-"

"Don't be modest. Just take the compliment." She says with a slight eye roll.

"Your seduction skills are terrible, by the way. We've got to work on those." I mutter.

She sits up and punches my arm. "That's like, the one thing you never say to a woman after you sleep with her."

"What the truth?"

"Yes."

"It's been almost an hour since we've done it, kid. The moratorium on telling the truth ends at the ten minute mark."

"Says who?"

"The Sex Bible."

"Sex Bible?"

"Or Sexble if that's easier."

"Wow. The Sexble?"

"The Sexble. Either way, you suck at seduction."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You do. But you're great in-."

She punches me again and leans back against the pillow. "You know what?" She throws the pillow at me. "I should probably get dressed. Dinner is in an hour and a half and you know how Effie is."

"Stay." I insist. "If you're hungry, I have food in here. Let's just not go anywhere."

"But Effie-"

"-will get over herself eventually."

"Okay." She whispers.

_I won! Happy dance time...okay not really. _"Good. I like having you here. It's how I know for sure you're safe."

"That's sweet, Finn." She yawns.

If I answer back, we will just keep talking and she seems like she needs sleep. So I don't say anything else- just hold her.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

Do I even _want _to know where Ever and Finnick are right now?

Whether I want to or not, it's pretty obvious. I can't help but to feel anger at the whole situation. The sad part is that the anger isn't even directed at a person. Not at Ever- she's my little girl. Not even at Finnick- I'm the one that begged him to in the first place. But it's the whole freaking situation.

How desperate must I have been to help her to beg her twenty-three year old best friend to do that?


	68. Good Life

I feel like I've accomplished something! Everybody seems to be freaked out about Ever and Finnick's creepy-pedo-incesty-but-sweet relationship going on. *fist pumps like a crazy*

It's not an EverxFinnick pairing type relationship. They love each other, but they aren't *in* love...does that make sense?

Yes, Tru21 is Panem's version of Rue 21 and/or Forever 21 and Hot Gossip is my attempt at naming a Panem Hot Topic.

I was having major writer's block and I have what will happen next chapter down, but I figured I throw a happy-ish one in there.

* * *

**Good Life**

* * *

_Sometimes there's airplanes I can't jump out  
Sometimes there's bullshit that don't work now  
We are god of stories but please tell me  
What there is to complain about_

_-OneRepublic "Good Life"_

* * *

_Ever..._

The next morning starts out rather nicely, compared to most morning in the Capitol. Finnick is up before I am and he's made coffee for himself and my favorite kind of tea for me. He hands me a cup of tea and says good morning.

"'Morning," I mumble.

"Still not a morning person I see," He says, sipping his coffee.

"Nobody likes morning people."

He mimes being stabbed in the heart and twists the 'dagger' and rips it out.

"Aw, I'm sorry." I say as I roll my eyes.

"That's the sarcastic Ever I know and occasionally love- ow!" He looks at the spot on his arm where I just slapped him. "That's gonna leave a mark. You're abusive."

I laugh and sip some of my apple cinnamon tea while Finnick gets dressed. I finish my tea and throw on my clothes. Stuffing my key to his room in my pocket, I go to the door to leave. "I'll see you later, okay? Effie will kill me if I'm later than I already am."

"See you later- don't get stuck in the elevator again."

"It was one time, I was _six_, and you and the victor from District 2 were freaking out worse than I was." I say, opening the door and tiptoeing out.

I step into the elevator and immediately begin to dread what will happen next. Sure enough, as soon as I step out of the elevator, Effie Trinket takes the liberty of invading my personal space. She grabs my wrist and squeezes a little too tightly. "Where were you last night?"

"And, why is that important?" I ask evenly.

"You were absent at dinner last night. It's not fair to your father and I to have to take care of matters all by ourselves when you are fully capable."

"You're not my mother, Effie. Stop acting like it." I push her away and start to flounce away.

"What's your problem, Ever?"

"My problem, Effie, is you. Stop acting like you have any sort of authority over me because you do not. And just because I skip dinner one night doesn't mean anything. I wasn't hungry, so I went to bed." Which, isn't a _total_ lie.

Effie glares at me and hisses, "As the escort for your District, I do have some sort of authority over you, Ms. Abernathy. And also, mealtimes are not optional. They are crucial for planning and you must spend time with your tributes!"

"Skipping one dinner isn't going to put much of a dent in their chances of winning, Ms. Trinket." I mimic her Capitol accent to a tee.

Effie simply huffs and says, "Funny that you went to bed. When I knocked on your door last night to get you, there was no reply."

"I was probably in the shower."

"I didn't hear your shower going." She accuses.

"Holy fudge, Effie. Stalker, much?"

"Just doing my job." She seethes.

I think for a moment. "Well, I must have been sleeping."

She glares at me and flounces away, leaving me there to roll my eyes.

Finnick and I _really _need to be more sneaky.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

Ever sits down next to me in a huff. Effie sits across from her, equally ticked off. Can't they go five minutes without nearly ripping out each other's throats? I mean, they probably can't, but _still_.

I sigh, "Good morning, you two."

"Oh shut up!" They shout in unison.

"Alright then. Did you two sleep well?" I ask Katniss and Peeta.

They both just shrug.

I take another glance at Ever and notice she's wearing a black fedora. "I've never seen you in a hat before. It looks nice on you."

"Thanks," She grins. "I decided to experiment."

"Experimenting works for you."

Much of the remainder of breakfast passes by in silence. Not even Cinna or Portia speak. The roar of the other Districts' conversation even seems to be diluted from the tension between Effie and Ever.

"So where were you yesterday?" Peeta asks Ever innocently.

"Oh, nowhere." She says mysteriously. I don't know if she realizes she does this, but her eyes shift to the table claimed by District 4. More particularly, her eyes shift to the green-eyed sex symbol that is sitting there, joking and laughing with his tributes. Her lips curve upward in a faint smile and in an instant, she looks away and the smile is gone. Her angry scowl is back and she is now glaring at Effie.

_So soon, huh? _I think as my eyes shift from my daughter to Finnick. _I thought she'd hold out a little while longer, at least another day. Interesting. _

I look over at the District 4 table, which has become awfully quiet for their usual rambunctious selves. Finnick looks over at Ever for a split second and looks away quickly just like Ever did.

_Guess I know where she was last night. _I think with a smirk. They can at least be discreet about it.

* * *

_Ever..._

Katniss and Peeta are led away to the gymnasium for training. Effie clears her throat as soon as they leave. "The two of you need to be thinking of interview angles. Interview prep day is fast approaching."

Neither of us are paying attention- something about my fingernails is oddly enticing at the moment.

Effie soon excuses herself to go do whatever it is that Effies do, leaving my father and I to sit in awkward silence.

"Don't scream!" Two voices shout from behind me.

"Ah!" I scream. The two people and my father laugh hysterically as I slowly turn my head to see who it is. "I hate you two!" I say when I see it is Finnick and Raewyn.

"Hurtful!" They say back.

Daddy just chuckles and takes a sip of liquor from his glass. "What do you two want?"

Raewyn gives him a 'look.' "Since when did I need a reason to- yeah, actually, I do want something. Two tings, actually."

Finnick shrugs, "I have no reason whatsoever. She just asked me if to help her scare Ever. It was so worth it."

"So, I was wondering if; A. You could watch Zahra for like, 15 minutes until Eri and Taivas get back from...well, they said they were getting coffee, but 'getting coffee' is code for many things when my son is involved...and B. If I could steal your daughter for, um, several hours?"

Daddy looks suspicious. "And, why would you be stealing Ever?"

She bites her lip, "Well...do you want to truth or a really bad lie?"

"Hell, lie. Go for it."

She clears her throat and says in monotone, "I'm robbing a bank and I need her to drive the getaway car. If I'm going down I'm taking someone with me."

"And it _has _to be Ever?"

"Yes, because she is so sweet and harmless that nobody will suspect her. I get off scot-free, she gets a fair cut. It's a win-win situation."

"Nice plan. Okay now the truth."

Her bored monotone attitude changes to almost annoying bubbly. "Oh my gosh, there is like, this _amazing _one day sale going on at Tru21 and like, every other place at the mall. I need to take a teenager with me so I don't look like the weird thirty-two year old who still buys clothes from Tru21 and Hot Gossip. That, and, my closet is already overflowing but I _must _spend money on someone! Please?"

In an instant, I go from depressed-but-faking-happy-cuz-my-life-sucks to, typical-teenage-girl-who-likes-shopping. "Ooh, stuff! Daddy, new stuff!"

She gives him the puppy dog eyes and adds, "I'll pay for everything?"

He bites his lip and shrugs. "Knock yourselves out- just don't spend too much on her, because then I'd be compelled to pay you back."

She shakes her head, "Don't worry about it, I save up most of my victor money for shopping."

"Women," he says, rolling his eyes.

"Haymitch isn't getting any- ow!" Finnick presses his hand to where he was just punched by Raewyn. "Well Haymitch, I see where you've learned your nose-breaking skills."

Raewyn smirks then says, "So she can go?"

"I don't see why not."

"Great!" She motions for me to follow her and we hurry off to empty her wallet.

"Wait, who's watching Trinity?" I ask her.

"Isis has her. But Eri and Taivas will when they get back...maybe babysitting will teach him that abstinence is a good thing."

Surprisingly, I laugh at that.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

Once the girls leave, Finnick sits down across from me. "It's nice to see Ever acting like herself again."

"Yeah," I say distractedly.

"I've missed her. Sometimes I see little pieces of her old self come back, but it's still not the same."

"She lost the ability to ever be the same the day Tanith Rudo drew her name from the reaping ball."

"I know," Finnick sighs. "But do you think she could've gotten most of herself back if Snow didn't put her through the prostitution-"

"Finnick!" I hiss, pointing to Raewyn's four and a half year old daughter. Zahra-Rose is just sitting there coloring and probably not hearing anything we say. Then again, maybe she is hearing everything and the last thing I need is for her to ask Raewyn, "Mommy, what's prostitution?"

"Oh, sorry, um...we need a code word for it." He insists.

"Like what?"

"What about..." his eyes shift around the room as he looks for something to use. Finally, his eyes rest on Zahra-Rose's coloring book. On the page she is on, there is an outline of a zebra. "Zebra."

"Zebra? Our code word is zebra?"

"Well do you have a better idea?"

"No, but-"

"Exactly." He says, pointing a finger.

We both chuckle for a few seconds before he gets all serious again. "Like I was saying, do you think she could've gotten most of herself back if Snow didn't put her through the zebra?"

"I don't know, maybe. I'm sure she'd have people to help her survive life post-arena. She's grown up around examples of what not to do to cope with the trauma, so maybe she'd put it in the past and try to move on. I get your point, though. Zebra made it impossible."

Finnick nods, keeping the seriousness despite the ridiculous use of "zebra." He grabs the half-empty glass of liquor and knocks it back. I don't even glare at him. "I miss annoyingly-happy-Ever."

"Surely you've seen some of that come back, right?" I ask hopefully. "Even with the zebra, there must be some of that still there?"

"Oh, yeah absolutely. Like I said before, her old happy self comes back in pieces here and there."

"That is oddly comforting."

Finnick takes the bottle and pours more into the glass. He offers the glass to me and I decline. He shrugs, "More for me."

"Don't tell me you're a closet drunk."

He shake his head, "Nah. I just feel like drinking."

"Good."

A short silence follows and he knocks back another glass before he speaks again. "We did it again. I didn't bring it up, she did. She asked me for it."

"You don't have to assure me that it was what it was. I know you wouldn't force or pressure her. You know how zebra feels, and forcing her would feel too much like it...correct?"

"Yeah, dead on. I hate the zebra. I just wish it would go away and we could forget about it. Just for one day."

"That's something optimists say."

"Nobody ever said I was a pessimist."

I roll my eyes, "I hate optimists. They're so... optimistic."

"That's kind of the point." Finn says with a 'duh' expression. He plays around with the ice in the bottom of the glass, all the liquor gone from it.

I just roll my eyes and watch Zahra color the zebra in her coloring book. "Hey, Zahra sweetheart?"

"Yeah, Haymitch?"

"Why don't you color another picture now?"

"But I'm not done with the zebra?"

I try to think of a reason for her to abandon it and move on. "Um, I'm allergic to zebras."

"Oh! Otay, Haymitch."

The little girl flips through the pages until she finds a page with two kittens and a ball of yarn on it.

"We're here to relive you," says an annoyingly chipper voice.

_Aw, darn it! Eri and Taivas are here to take Zahra. I love having little Z around. She reminds me so much of my little girl..._

* * *

_Ever..._

I cannot recall the last time I've been shopping. Of course Daddy would always take me to buy a few things now and then, but he's never been one to actually let me shop. His rule is grab what you want and go. Raewyn on the other hand...

"You _need _this." She says as she pulls this cute grey scarf from one of the shelves.

My arms are absolutely full and so are hers, but we keep looking around. Photographers for the Capitol gossip magazines have been stalking me all day, but I don't care. One can easily be distracted by all the gorgeous clothes. Plus, my father's girlfriend isn't exactly bad company.

"You are now officially the best dressed person in Panem," she comments as she hands the cashier hands her the receipt from Tru21.

"How much was everything?" I ask her worriedly.

"Don't worry about it," She says as she hides the receipt in her back pocket.

"Is it more than what I made you spend at Hot Gossip?"

"About twice as much-"

"Ohmygosh I'm so sorry!"

She just laughs and insists that it is no problem. "Really, I wanted to."

"Why?" I ask softly.

Hardly anybody does anything nice for me anymore unless there is an ulterior motive. Not even Finnick's lessons come without a motive- he says he needs me to be alive; that's motive to me. But Raewyn spending all this money on me? I don't get it.

Her answer to my question is simple. "Because I figured that it would be fun and a chance for us to spend some time together."

We are silent as we walk out of the mall. When she least expects it, I slip my hand into her back pocket and pull outt he receipts. "Whoa that's a lot of zeros!"

"Only four!" She defends. "And it was all on sale!"

"Four zeros? Do you even have anymore money?"

"Do you know how much victors are paid a month?"

"No..." I say sheepishly.

"Then seriously, no worries."

"Okay," I agree reluctantly.

_Is this what having a mom is like?_

* * *

_Haymitch..._

My eyes widen when I see the girls walk into the training center. "Please don't tell me all of those are for my daughter." I say, gesturing to the multitude of bags.

"No, of course not!" Raewyn says with a giggle. She bites her lip and waggles the small bag in her left hand. "This one's for Trinity."

"How much do I owe you?" I ask.

"When I said don't worry about it, I meant it. Seriously. Besides, you'll never let me take her shopping again if I make you pay me back."

"Oh my goodness, how much did you spend?"

"Don't tell him," Ever mouths.

"Now you _have_ to tell me." I say.

Raewyn blinks her blue eyes at me innocently in an attempt to distract me while she fesses up.

"That's a lot of zeros!"

"Only four!" She and Ever defend. The two wander off to go put Ever's new stuff in her room.

I sigh and think to myself, _Women. I'll never understand them._

Underneath my attitude toward the ridiculous amount of money she's spent, I do appreciate Raewyn's kindness toward my daughter, and I'll be forever grateful. She's at that age where she needs a woman in her life that she can go to; almost a mother-like figure. Even after the Games end this year, they can still talk on the phone at anytime. Sure, Ever has her two aunts from Rose's brothers marrying, but they can't understand Ever the way somebody else can.

_I imagine Rose would have spent just as much, if not more, on her today. No wonder those two were allies._

A loud noise is heard from the hallway as the tributes come from training to dinner. I look for Katniss and Peeta and true to their word, they are obeying me and are walking side by side. Peeta says something casually and Katniss fakes a laugh. Ever and I need to work with her. If I can see the laugh is fake from this distance...oh no.

Ever comes back downstairs shortly after, wearing the same black fedora she's been wearing since this morning "You know it's okay to take the hat off, right?" Katniss says, raising her eyebrows as she sits down.

"Unless she's in some kind of cult." Peeta jokes.

"Um...promise not to freak?" Ever asks me.

"Promise."

She pulls off the fedora and her hair falls around her shoulders. It's the same length it usually is- down to the middle of her back- and is mostly the same color. Except for some purple stre-

"What did you do to your hair?" I gasp.

"Don't get mad at Raewyn, I did it myself and it's totally temporary." She explains.

"Oh. Well that's okay then. As long as it'll go away eventually."

"So...you hate it?" She asks quietly.

I shake my head. "I like it, actually. I'll just have to get used to you with purple hair."

She smiles and goes back to eating. Katniss and Peeta explain what happened in training today, and Effie just has to piss Ever off more by saying purple hair is so last year.

Effie sticks her nose up and says, "Pink is in style now. You really need to keep up with the times."

"And you, Effie Trinket really need to find somebody who give a flying f-"

"Tsk, tsk, Ever. Language." Cinna says.

* * *

_Ever..._

Can Effie Trinket go five minutes without annoying me to the point where I consider homicide?

Effie sticks her nose up at me and purple hair and says, "Pink is in style now. You really need to keep up with the times."

I glare at her and nearly break my spoon in two. "And you, Effie Trinket really need to find somebody who give a flying f-"

"Tsk, tsk, Ever. Language." Cinna says, waggling his right index finger at me.

I shoot him and exasperated look and he smiles at me.

"I happen to like what you've done with your hair," he whispers before turning back to his food.

I finish my salad before anybody else at the table and sit there idly for a few minutes. I pull my music player out of my pocket and flip to the books I have on it. I am torn between Cassandra Clare's City of Bones and James Patterson's 1st To Die. I've read both books at least twice, and since I'm in a happier mood than usual, I choose City of Bones.

Halfway through the first page, my stomach growls. I ignore it, but then it just gets annoying.

_More salad! _

Salad is the best, I don't care what anybody says. I get up and go to the buffet and head straight for the salad bar, which is out of the way of the rest of the dining hall.

I feel a hand grab my butt, and I turn about to see who it is.

"Aeneas!" I exclaim, slapping him across the face.

Not surprisingly, he just stays there and pulls my body to his. "What's your problem, hm?"

"My problem, is that I don't very much appreciate being sexually harassed by pigs like you in public."

"But you don't seem to mind it with the middle-aged Capitol men."

"I don't have a choice, Aeneas. You know that," I hiss.

"But with me, you do!" He argues. "Come upstairs with me after dinner. I'll show you a good time."

"Sorry, not interested." I say coldly as I push him away from me.

Aeneas grabs me and hurries to the nearest wall, pushing my back into it. "You leave me no choice." He takes his hand and covers my mouth. "Looks like I'll have to force you."

At first, I am one hundered percent sure that he is bluffing. Nobody is dumb enough to try to do that with so many victors willing to get revenge. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a knife. Before I have time to scream, he covers me mouth with his hand and presses the knife to my throat.

In a raspy voice he whispers, "Here's what you're going to do. You're going to follow me down this hall. You're going to smile and laugh like I'm telling you a funny joke. You are going to be quiet. You are going to do as I say. Most importantly, you are not going to tell your drunken father or any of your victor friends about this, especially not Finnick Odair and Chaff Bakaari. Do all of that, and I won't slit your pretty little throat, got it?"

I nod slowly as he removes his hand from my mouth. I prepare to scream for help, but he stops me. "Even though I can't do anything to you right here, I will follow you until I get you alone. Then, when you least expect it, I will jump out with with this knife and slit your throat open."

Needless to say, I comply.

Aeneas leads me down this hallway and explains. "There's a janitor's closet down this hallway, a little ways past the men's room. You'd think that due to the close proximity you'd be able to hear what goes on it the closet. But you can't. My brother and I tested it out. Anaximenes took Enobaria's daughter Minverva into the closet last year."

_But...Minnie is six months younger than I am. _

"The best part is...Enobaria doesn't even know."

I smile and act like I am laughing.

Finally, we are far enough down the hall so I don't have to pretend to be friendly anymore. He seems to read my mind before I even think of screaming. He claps his hand over my mouth again and leads me further down the hall.

Knowing about last year's incident with Minnie Grey has changed things completely. The deal is off. I don't care if he stalks me, I'll just make sure I am never alone.

I scream into his hand and I begin to kick at him. He forces me further down the hallway, and closer to the janitor's supply closet. I know that if he gets the chance to close that closet door behind us, I am in big trouble. I kick even more violently than I've already been kicking and I even get him in the groin. He lets go of me for a split second, long enough for me to scream and run a few feet down the opposite side of the hallway.

I underestimate his ability to run while in pain, though. He grabs me in a matter of seconds and a loud _crack! _can be heard as his palm connects with the side of my face.

"Obviously, I cannot get you into the janitor's closet without you escaping. But that's okay. I've no problem doing this _right here. _We should be far enough down the hallway so we won'y disturb everyone else. And if I'm caught, I'll say it was consensual. Who will they believe? The son of one of the most feared victors, or a known whore?"

His hand travels to my button down shirt. I bite down on one of his arms but he just makes sure his arm stays there, muffling any screams or cries for help I can make at the moment.

He grins when he sees that the first three buttons already hang undone. He pull off hiss own shirt in a matter of seconds and shoves the blue cotton thing in my mouth, replacing his arm as a means to silence me.

"Sh, it's okay Ever, I'm not gonna hurt you." Aeneas says in a syrupy-sweet voice. "Much," he breathes against my ear.

My shirt is unbuttoned and I am fighting to keep him from fully exposing my chest.

"Let's get rid of this, shall we?" His hand moves to my back, determined to unhook my bra. The lust in his eyes is terrifying, much worse than that in the eyes of a grown man. I am more afraid of him than I am of Snow, Cole and Hemsworth put together. I never knew someone so close in age to me could have such sick fantasies and desires.

Out of nowhere, this fist flies into Aeneas's face. I scream because I am afraid and am unsure who to expect.

"What the-?" Aeneas shouts.

I hear a struggle and grunts of pain from both Aeneas and his attacker before I finally hear a loud _thud!_ I peek through my fingers to see Aeneas on the ground with a bloody nose.

The person who gave it to him picks him up and throws him into the wall for good measure. "And stay away from her! You're lucky I don't snap your neck!"

Aeneas leans against the wall and mumbled an array of colorful words.

_How did he know to come down this hallway?_

Despite the fact that I now know the identity of my rescuer, I cannot bring myself to look up. I sit curled up in a ball, sobbing into my jeans. I know Aeneas is still sitting only a few feet away from me, but I am safe now.

"Sh, it's okay. I'm here, Finnick's got you. Sh, sh, sh, sh." He holds me as I sob and I bury my face in his chest. His hand moves to my unbuttoned shirt and my eyes widen in fear. He sees this and explains. "Oh no, no, no. Not like that, baby. I'm going to button this up for you, okay?"

The only response I give is a nod.

One by one, Finnick buttons up my shirt, not letting me move my head from his chest. "That's better,"

"W-what are you doing down this hall anyway?"

"I had to pee."

"Oh. You can, um, do that if you need to. I think I should go lie down now."

He shakes his head, "I can wait. You're more important right now...goodness, Ever. I nearly froze when I saw that. I realize this is a stupid questions, but are you okay?"

"Thanks to you." I mumble, my voice being muffled by his shirt and leather jacket.

He picks me up bridal style and lets me lean into his chest. "Here, I'll take you up to your room." He glares at Aeneas and hisses, "You! Get up you son of a bitch. That broken nose isn't going to just heal itself. Well, it will, but it'll be messed up for life if you don't see someone."

He scowls at Finnick and starts walking in front of us.

"You don't have to take me if you don't want to."

"I want to." He says, pulling me closer.

We walk down the hall and try to slip past the crowded dining hall to get to the elevator. Unfortunately, a few of my other victor friends spot us and a beaten up Aeneas walking in. Daddy hurries over to Finnick and demands to know what happened.

"I don't want to talk about it," I tell him.

"Ever-" he begins.

"Can I please explain tomorrow morning? I just want to go to sleep."

Reluctantly, he backs off. "Okay, sweetheart." He kisses my forehead and moves aside.

Brutus all but charges Finnick, demanding to know what he did to his son. In one quick moment, Finnick puts me down on a table and he now has Brutus by the collar and hisses so only Brutus can hear, "Listen, jackass! Your son needs some serious help. Any man who goes around attacking girls for the hell of it deserve to die. He's lucky I didn't snap his neck after what I just saw. Got it?"

He pushes Brutus away and grabs my hand, leading me to the elevator.

Usually, we'd be fighting like a pair five-year-olds over who gets to push the buttons, but I gladly let him do it. The elevator takes us to the 12th floor, and he asks me which room is mine.

"See that door right there? It's right across from it, so down this way a bit." I hand him my room key.

"Gotcha." He picks me up bridal style and carries me to the door.

Once inside the room, he does the thing a perfect gentleman would do and he carries me to the bed and puts me down on it. I've had pajamas laid out here for about two days now, so I slip out of my jeans and into the black shorts. I keep my button down shirt on, though. I feel like I should keep it on a bit longer. I go to get under the covers and Finnick tucks me in. He kisses my cheek and goes to leave.

"No wait!"

Slowly, he turns around. "Yes?"

"Can...can you stay? I'm still scared and totally shaken up from what just happened. I'm so sorry, I-"

He is already by my side at this point and he presses a finger to my lips. "Of course I'll stay. Just until you fall asleep or all night?"

"Can you stay all night?" I ask.

"Mm hm," he says, taking his shirt off and crawling in next to me. I hug him and mumble a thanks. He chuckles and starts playing with my hair, occasionally twirling one of the dyed-purple locks around his fingers.

"You know something, Finn?"

"What, baby?"

"For the most part...today was one of the best days ever. You know, aside from the Aeneas incident."

"I'm so glad to hear that. You have no idea. That was one of the scariest things I've ever seen." He whispers sleepily.

I'd kiss his cheek, but my head is on his chest and I am too sleepy to move, so I kiss his chest and whisper, "Try being the defenseless teenage girl. He had a knife."

"I'm so sorry." He whispers, caressing my cheek.

"You stopped it from happening. If anything, I should be apologizing to you. Did he hurt you?"

"Only a few punches. I got him ten times as bad, trust me." He chuckles.

I giggle one last time and then shift my body so our eyes are level. He pulls me closer and I whisper, "Goodnight, Finnick." I play with a piece of his hair for a second then add, "I love you."

He wraps his arms around me and whispers, "I love you too, kid."


	69. Best Of You

**Best Of You**

* * *

_Were you born to resist or be abused?_

_-The Foo Fighters "Best Of You"_

* * *

_Ever..._

It's been two days since Aeneas tried to rape me. Two days that have passed by slowly and full of depraved clients for both Finnick and myself. It's gotten to where we hardly see each other except for late at night. It seems that the closer we get to the interviews, the more and more the prospective sponsors want to take advantage of the victor trade. For the past couple days, I've been seeing at least three clients a day- and not getting any new injuries in the process. My friend's lessons are paying off already, and we're both happy about that. Enduring the men on my client list has actually become almost bearable, though I'd never say that I enjoy them.

"How much shall I pay you?" Asks forty-one year old Mr. Horatio Konnifer. Horatio is one of the most disgusting men on the planet. No, not in appearance- he is actually quite attractive. It is his actions that sicken me. He is currently married to his fourth wife, twenty-four year old Claudia Konnifer, he is a Gamemaker, and his children (one my age, several older, two younger) are all beautiful. That should be enough to make him happy- what does he need me for?

"No price is too much for you, my kitten." Horatio continues.

I smile seductively, though the deed is already done and run my fingers down his bare chest. "Now, now. Surely I'm not the first young victor you've taken advantage of. You must have seen Johanna Mason or Cashmere Nesset at some point."

He licks his lips. "Indeed I have, but you're so different than them."

"I know I am. But we conduct business the same. The only things I ask for in return are secrets, and you've already given me plenty of those."

"But surely there is something else?"

_What is it with Capitol people and their need to shower people with gifts? It's almost as if he is begging me to ask him for something. Sorry to disappoint; _"No, sir." I button up my jeans and pull my sweater over my spaghetti strap shirt. "I really must be going- interview prep day."

Horatio nods sadly and beckons me closer for a kiss goodbye. I oblige and even pretend that I don't want to rip his tongue out when he slips it into my mouth. With a flirty wink, I turn, grab my purse, and leave.

There is a car waiting out front to take me back to the Training Center, and when it does, it pulls up to the back so my re-entry can be as discreet as possible. The back door leads straight to the kitchen, which leads to the dining hall and victor's lounge. I sneak over to the elevators and begin to press the little up arrow button, but am pushed aside by a very pissed off Katniss.

Actually, pushed _to the floor _is more like it.

"Move it, Ever!" She elbows me in the gut so hard that it knocks the breath out of me and I fall on my face.

The only thing that stops me from getting up and slapping a bitch is the fact that I can't even breathe. So I lie there on the floor with my arms around my stomach, waiting until I can breathe again.

"Hey, are you okay?" Finnick asks as he walks over to the elevators. When I don't respond, he gets down on the floor next to me and lowers his head to mine. "Hon?"

My breath finally comes back to me and grasp his hand. "Kill."

He yanks his hand away and gives me a look. "Ever?"

"Kill. Katniss." I growl, standing up and pushing him out of the way. He stands up to try to follow me, but I punch him in the gut and run up the stairs.

"Ever Abernathy get your butt back here!" Finnick shouts like a parent as he chases me up the stairs. He finally catches up to me on the sixth floor and tackles me. "No killing the tributes!"

"Get off of me please." I say politely.

"Are you going to kill your tribute?"

"No," I say reluctantly.

"Okay." He gets off of me and helps me up, but doesn't let go of my hand. "Come with me."

"Why?"

"So I can make sure you don't kill anybody."

"Where?"

"My room so I can take off-"

"Finnick! Not in the hallways!" I scold.

He raises his eyebrows and says, "I was going to say so I can take off my gross sweaty clothes and take a shower."

I roll my eyes, "Yeah, I'm sure it was _your _clothes you were talking about."

"It was!" He defends.

"Really Finnick?_ Really?_"

* * *

_Haymitch_

Around dinnertime, Effie comes downstairs with Katniss in tow. I can't help but to notice she's been crying. Her face is all red and splotchy. Katniss looks away when she catches me staring, embarrassed that someone saw. Ever comes downstairs next and sits across from her. She raises her eyebrows and asks, "What's wrong with you?"

Katniss looks away and clenches her fists.

Effie clears her throat and turns to Cinna. "So, have you checked this week's weather forecast yet?"

Ever rolls her eyes at Effie's question. She must be tired of boring adult conversations. Effie and the stylists continue their small talk for a short while, delaying the inevitable topic.

Finally, I interrupt them. "Okay, enough small talk, just how bad were you today?"

Peeta answers right away. "I don't know that it mattered. By the time I showed up nobody even bothered to look at me. They were drunk and were singing some kind of drinking song, so I threw around some weights until they told me I could go."

Katniss seems relived, and I assume nobody paid her any mind either. I look to her ask, "And you, sweetheart?" I say it in a bit of a mocking tone, and both Katniss and Ever seem annoyed.

Katniss very gruffly says, "I shot an arrow at the Gamemakers."

Peeta, Effie and the stylists stop what they're doing and their mouths gape open. Ever was taking a sip of water and she spits it out all over Effie, who surprisingly, doesn't make a noise of disgust.

"You what?" The escort asks fearfully.

"I shot an arrow at them," Katniss says in her defense, her back straightening up and her elbows pressed to her sides. "Not exactly at them. In their direction. It's like Peeta said, I was shooting and they were ignoring me and I just . . . I just lost my head, so I shot an apple out of their stupid roast pig's mouth!"

"And what did they say?" Cinna asks slowly.

"Nothing. Or I don't know. I walked out after that."

"Without being dismissed?" gasps Effie.

"I dismissed myself."

"Well, that's that," I say in amusement.

"Do you think they'll arrest me?" Katniss asks in concern.

"Doubt it." I say at the same time as my daughter.

"What about my family? Will they punish them?" She asks.

I begin to think back to my mother, brother, Natalie, Rose and Ever. All five of them were punished for what I did. First it was my mother, a kind but demanding woman; Dionysus, my annoying but lovable younger brother; and Natalie, my then-nothing-really-serious girlfriend. All murdered within two weeks of my victory. Then Rose, the annoying as hell girl who used to hang around my kid brother. Eventually, I grew to tolerate her and even love her. Died in the arena. Lastly, Ever. The daughter I created with Rose shortly before she died. The daughter who lives with the same curse I do; surviving the Games. Perhaps having to live with the guilt of what happened to her is the worst of them all. Robbed of her childhood, her innocence, and any chance she had of healing. Having to look at what she's become- a plaything, a whore- and knowing it is all my fault disgusts me.

"Did you hear me?" Katniss asks bitterly.

"Hm?"

"What about my family? Will they be punished?"

"I don't think so," Ever says calmly.

"I agree with her. It wouldn't make much sense. See, they'd have to reveal what happened in the Training Center for it to have any worthwhile effect on the population. People would need to know what you did. But they can't since it's secret, so it'd be a waste of effort," says Haymitch. "More likely they'll make your life hell in the arena."

"More than it already will be, anyways," Ever says with as much bitterness as Katniss.

I smile and agree. "Very true,"

Ever is giggling like a little girl when she asks, "What were their faces like?"

Katniss grins back, "Shocked. Terrified. Uh, ridiculous, some of them. One man tripped backward into a bowl of punch."

Ever throws herself into another fit of giggles and says, "That's awesome!"

"Well, it serves them right," Effie says seriously as we all laugh, "It's their job to pay attention to you. And just because you come from District Twelve is no excuse to ignore you. I'm sorry," she defends herself quickly, looking around, "but that's what I think."

"I'll get a very bad score," Katniss argues.

"Scores only matter if they're very good, no one pays much attention to the bad or mediocre ones. For all they know, you could be hiding your talents to get a low score on purpose. People use that strategy," Portia says.

"I hope that's how people interpret the four I'll probably get. If that," Peeta says.

I shrug, "Johanna Mason purposely scored a 1 not too long ago. The Careers ignored her in the bloodbath and then she went on to win."

My teenager shudders at my mention of Johanna. "I'm afraid of Johanna."

"You and Raewyn both. What is it with you women all being afraid of her?"

"Who's Raewyn?" Katniss asks.

Peeta smiles mischievously. "Haymitch's girlfriend from some other Disitrict. I think it's like, 9 or 6 or something."

"Shut up and eat your dinner." I snap at them, which just makes all three teenagers laugh.

* * *

_Ever..._

Turns out that Katniss did all of that worrying for nothing. She ends up with an eleven while the Careers score tens. Peeta even gets lucky with his eight. I punch them both in the shoulder and yell, "See!"

"Guess they liked your temper," Daddy says with a hearty laugh and looks to them. "They've got a show to put on. They need some players with some heat."

With some more words of congratulations, Katniss and Peeta are ordered off to bed. My father turns to me but still looks away and says, "You should get to bed soon, too."

"Daddy-" I start to complain.

He holds up his hand to silence me and says, "Ever, it's a little late, don't you think?"

"No," I mumble.

"Ever."

"Fine. But I'm sleeping with Finnick again- he old me to."

Daddy seems okay with it, even though he knows what sleeping in Finnick's room can imply now. He doesn't say goodnight or anything. He just nods and walks away to probably drink some liquor.

Why is he acting so strange? Usually he's giving me hugs and telling me he loves me randomly. But this year? I feel almost as if he hates me. Have I become something so disgusting in his eyes that he won't even hug me or call me "sweetheart" anymore?

Whatever happened to me being his little girl?

* * *

_Finnick..._

I'm lying on the bed when I hear the lock click open. "I was about to send a search party."

She chuckles and takes off her shirt and bra and shorts and pulls on one of my shirts. The younger girl plays with her hair as she moves over to the bed and curls up next to me.

For a short while, everything is silent except for the sound of her breathing. I pull her closer to me without saying a word and give her a quick peck on the cheek.

Her eyes remain closed for another second before they flutter open.

"Can you be honest, Finn?" Ever asks softly.

"Yes, hon."

"Do you really care about me?"

My eyes widen. "Babe, how could you ask that? You know I really care- and you know I love you so so much."

She sighs sadly. "Someone does."

"What do you mean?"

She tries to hide the the tears in her eyes, but they're evident in her voice. "My father can't even look at me."

The poor thing is so fragile right now, I don't really know what to do. So, I just wrap my arms around her and let her cry. She cries herself to sleep in my arms, and I haven't the heart to move her, so she just stays like that.

_I'm going to kill Haymitch...eventually._

* * *

**I'm so sorry it's late and it sucks!**

**1. Writer's block**

**2. School started the 8th**

**3. 2 hour and 5 minute busride. I don't get home until 5:00-5:05.**

**4. CRAPLOAD of homework everynight.**

**5. I got my own laptop- yay!**

**6. Lots of stress with school and stuff- I'm still a little *waves hand from side-to-side***

**7. I don't usually ask for this, but if any of you believe in prayer could you maybe pray for me? I'm having trouble adjusting to public school and all of the people...and all of the other stuff that comes with it all at the Early College High School.**

**-McKala**


	70. A Peeta In Love

**So...I started typing this right in the middle of hurricane Irene. Yayyy!**

**Bad news? The power cut off when I has a 10,000 word + chapter that was EPIC. So...I didn't want to skip right to the interviews because I felt that'd just be stupid. BUT, I can't come up with anything as epic as it was before, so this is a really bad filler chapter before the interview epicness comes in. It should be out tonight, or tomorrow.**

**On a happier note...**

**Remember the fic awards I was excited about? I just want to say thank-you to everyone who voted, because I won Best Alternate Universe and Best OC for this fic. I cannot thank you enough!**

* * *

**A Peeta In Love**

* * *

_Ever..._

I am the last person from the District 12 crowds to walk into the dining hall the next morning. Effie Trinket waves me over and holds her hideous bubblegum pink wig onto her head. I sit between Cinna and my father, and am pretty much ignored by the latter. Not that it bothers me...okay, maybe it does.

Effie clears her throat. "So, as you know, we all have a big big big day ahead of us and-"

"What she means is," I interrupt. "Today is interview prep day, and tomorrow is when you tributes will all be interviewed. Yay for the Games!"

Even Katniss laughs at my sarcasm before composing herself and asking, "So what's going on today, Haymitch? You're coaching us on interviews today, right?"

"That's right," he says.

We sit in silence for the longest time until Katniss speaks up again. "You don't have to wait until I'm done. I can listen and eat at the same time."

"Change in plans," I say distantly.

Katniss looks to the older of the mentors for clarification. "There's been a change of plans as to our current approach."

"What's that?"

He shrugs. "Peeta has been asked to be coached separately."

"Good. So what's the schedule?" She asks curtly.

"You'll each have four hours with Effie for presentation, and four with Ever and I for content."

Effie giggles like the airhead she is and says rather shrewdly, "Good luck dealing with _both _of the Abernathy victors."

"And what's _that _supposed to mean?" I snap back.

"It means you and your father are more than a handful," she replies shortly.

"Anyway," Daddy says, "Katniss, you'll start with Effie. Peeta, you're with us."

* * *

_Peeta..._

Two years ago, Panem's 72nd annual Hunger Games were held in the Capitol. That year, like all the others, twenty-four girls and boys from the twelve districts were reaped and sent to the Capitol to play their games. From District 12, a skinny little twelve year old was reaped, along with a strong 18 year old boy from the Seam. Anyone who had any hope in District 12 was betting on the 18 year old, simply thinking the 12 year old would be a bloodbath death.

The 18 year old was my older brother Paine's friend Robbie Hester. My brother was angry that the girl by the name of Ever Abernathy won, saying the drunk would do anything to keep his, "precious little girl" alive. I agreed with Paine.

Until now.

I am alone in the common room on District 12's floor with the father and daughter victors preparing for my interview with Caesar Flickerman, and Haymitch is all but completely ignoring her. If anything, Ever seems like a burden to him- not his favorite thing in the world.

Haymitch has a full bottle of liquor sitting on the table behind him while Ever sits on the floor next to one of the black leather couches. She tilts her head to the side and bites her lip before suggesting an interview angle. "What about sexy? You could pull that off."

I blush furiously, I'm sure.

Haymitch shakes his head, "Doesn't mean he has to. All of the Career boys might be doing something similar."

Ever just keeps staring at me with seemingly empty eyes as Haymitch says something about I should just be "likeable."

"Talk yourself up," Haymitch suggest. "Even if that means making a subtle insult toward Katniss. I know that's cruel, but I want District 12 to come home with a victor this year."

_Katniss...never..._ "I won't say anything that will lessen her chances or survival," I say blatantly.

Haymitch raises an eyebrow. "So?"

"That's playing dirty," I say stupidly. These are the Hunger Games. Anything goes.

"Do you think that'll matter in the arena? Whether you insult her or not, survival skills will do the talking and sponsor-gaining once in the arena. I doubt yours are better than hers- sorry- so anything you say can only benefit you and not put a dent in her chances."

"Good. But I still won't do it."

"I wasn't trying to convince you, just throwing it out there," Haymitch defends.

I shake my head and smile. "Then you'll drop the subject."

The fourteen year old on the other side of the room stands up and walks over to me so that she is standing no more than six inches away. She stares at me for a short while and furrows her brow. "Why are you so determined to be _nice _to _Katniss_? You'll have to kill her eventually- unless someone else beats ya to it."

I grit my teeth so hard that they make that annoying little squeaking sound. "You don't have to talk like that."

Ever grins, then goes back to glaring. "Why? It's true. You may have to kill her."

"I. Won't. Kill. Her." I say with such finality, even District 12's victors can't hide the shock on their faces.

Ever tilts her head from side-to-side before parting her lips to form an 'o.' "You won't kill Katniss because you're in love with her, is that right?"

* * *

_Haymitch..._

After fourteen and a half years, I have learned that my daughter is a strange but intelligent little person, so I leave her be as she stares down Peeta. Their voices are so low as they exchange a few words, I don't hear them until Ever says, "You won't kill Katniss because you're in love with her, is that right?"

Peeta says nothing and just avoids meeting her eye.

"Thought so."

"How did you know?" He asks gravely.

Ever smirks and says, "Easy. The way you look at her. It's the same way-" She pauses and stops at that, spacing out for a split second before she shakes her head. "Point is, I know. Does she?"

"No," Peeta admits.

Ever blinks her brown eyes at him. "You should tell her."

"What's the use at this point?" Peeta argues.

I've been sitting here in the corner just listening to them- until now. "Strategy," I say.

"Heh?" The teenagers question.

"You're going to confess your love for Katniss on live T.V." I tell Peeta matter-of-factly.

"No! I'm not going to embarrass her and myself in front of the entire nation before we are murdered for the Capitol's enjoyment!" Peeta argues.

"Think about it, boy," I hiss at him. "It's strategy! The Capitolites and the people in the districts will eat it up! Your chances of survival will increase by twenty times. The Gamemakers will consider it to be a great storyline to make these Games stand out, and you will help Katniss be something she can never be herself!"

"What then?" Peeta snaps back.

"Something desirable! She's so cruel and bitter than she won't get any sponsors! At least not until you drop the bomb about loving her. Then, you both will have so many sponsors, we may have to turn some of them away."

"I want you to give all of the sponsor money to Katniss." He says coolly.

"What?" Ever gasps.

"I want to save _her_."

I shake my head at him, but promise to do what he says. We only need one victor anyway.

Right then, the door opens and in walks Katniss.

* * *

_Blahhh I know! Short and sucks. The interview chapter should be out tonight_


	71. Ain't No Getting Out of This Mess

Submissions for the Winter 2011 Hunger Games fic awards are here :) It's be awesome if I get nominated again, but there are plenty of others in the fandom who'd appreciate the nominations, so please nominate fics! Here's the link (without spaces)

forum. fanfiction. net/forum/2012_Hunger_Games_Awards /93149/

I've also posted the link on my profile.

* * *

**Ain't No Getting Out of This Mess**

* * *

_What's done is done  
Can't resurrect the setting sun  
What's done is done  
Oh you can't reverse the bullet from a gun_

_-The Script "Bullet From a Gun"_

* * *

_Ever..._

The stage quickly fills up with tributes who take their seats in the arch formation set up on stage. Cinna has dressed Katniss in this long dress covered in precious stones. The slightest movement give the impression that she is engulfed in flames. For the third year in a row, it seems like District 12 will have a chance.

All of this year's mentors and escorts sit backstage and watch the interviews on a little screen. Unfortunately, Finnick is absent- probably being rented out to some attention starved housewife- so I just hang around Effie and my father throughout the interviews.

Just like every year, the interviews are predictable. Careers like Glimmer Twilight and Clove Marcella paint themselves as ruthless yet dangerously beautiful killers. The audience is enticed by them, and they've obviously left a lasting impression. Cato Merlin from District 2 is even more ruthless than Glimmer and Clove. Brutus beams with pride, knowing that wealthy Capitolites are now digging into their wallets.

District 3 is forgettable, and though Dani Haller seems like a pleasant girl, District 4 fails to leave a lasting impression.

Lilith from District 5 is intriguing, and I think her red hair makes her Eri's favorite. Her district partner on the other hand, is quite dull and uninteresting.

Following Darian Mueller's boring interview are District 6, 7 and 8. Twig Saunter from 7 is the most interesting out of the six, and that is only because of his improvised tree dance that sends the audience into fits of laughter.

Carmen from District 9 wins some hearts out of sympathy. She is mentally challenged; I hear people in District 12 call people like her "retarded," though I think that word is too harsh. Her District partner, Gavriel, leaves a small impression. He will be remembered as the pacifist from District 9. There are probably bets going around right now on whether or not he'll make it past the bloodbath.

Lamb Hanna from 10 is forgettable, but her name has a nice ring to it. Her District partner, the boy with the crippled foot, is unfortunately forgettable as well.

Rue, the little girl from District 11, is dressed in a green gossamer gown complete with wings, giving the impression that she is an angel. Or perhaps a bird, judging by the way she is standing. Like a bird about to take flight. Caesar is very gentle and kind when he speaks to her. When he asks her what she thinks her biggest strength will be, she answers immediately, albeit tremulously.

"I'm very hard to catch," she pauses and continues. "And if they can't catch me, they can't kill me. So don't count me out."

"I wouldn't in a million years," Caesar says encouragingly, lying through his teeth.

Rue's time is up and out walks her district partner. Thresh only answers with a yes or a no. He's at least six and a half feet tall, and has the same dark skin as Rue. If only Katniss Everdeen were as big and naturally threatening as him. That way, sullen and hostile could have worked for her angle.

His time is up, and Katniss steps to the center of the stage. Cinna has dressed her in a beautiful dress that she struggles to walk in. It'd be funny, if not for that fact that the chances of District 12 having another victor rests on her.

"So, Katniss, the Capitol must be quite a change from District Twelve. What's impressed you most since you arrived here?" asks Caesar.

She seems to consider this for a moment before saying, "The lamb stew."

"The one with the dried plums? Oh, I eat it by the bucketful. It doesn't show, does it?" he asks the crowd and they shake their heads, giving him words of comfort. Caesar truly is a man made for the stage. "Now, Katniss. When you came out in the opening ceremonies, my heart actually stopped. What did you think of that costume?"

"You mean after I got over my fear of being burned alive?"

"Yes. Start then," says Caesar.

"I thought Cinna was brilliant and it was the most gorgeous costume I'd ever seen and I couldn't believe I was wearing it," Katniss says, smiling wide, "I can't believe I'm wearing this, either," She pulls up her dress only a bit and I keep my eyes glued to her face, watching her expressions with a pleased smile. "I mean, look at it!"

She stands up and twirls once.

"Oh, do that again!" Caesar cheers.

She's lifting her arms up and twirling around like a little girl in a meadow. She stumbles, dizzy, but Caesar catches her. Her face is red and she's laughing.

_Good Katniss, good. _I encourage silently.

After about twenty more seconds of laughter from the audience, the buzzer rings and it it Peeta's turn.

"Hello Peeta," the Capitolite man says, grinning.

"Hello, Caesar," Peeta takes a seat..

"How have you been liking the stay at the Capitol, Peeta?" He asks.

"It's nice," He chuckles.

_Yeah, it's lovely. Especially when your body is being sold to psycho rapists. God, Peeta. In a way, you're lucky then arena will most likely be the end. Nothing good awaits those who survive it, _I think bitterly. I am so consumed by my own thoughts, that all I catch of the next thirty seconds are about Peeta ranting about bread and the Capitol showers. I fianlly come back to focus right when Peeta and Caesar start sniffing each other.

_Gay._

"So, Peeta," Caesar starts at the end of a laughing spell, "You have to tell us, do you have a girlfriend back home in District 12?"

_Tell him Peeta, come on! _

"Handsome lad like you; there must be some special girl. Come on, what's her name?"

"Well, there is this one girl,"

_Come on, come on..._

"I've had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I'm pretty sure she didn't know I was alive until the reaping."

The crowd 'aww's in sadness and I share a brief glance with my father.

"She have another fellow?" asks Caesar.

"I don't know," Peeta says shrugging, "But a lot of boys like her."

Caesar tries to cheer him up, "So, here's what you do. You win, you go home. She can't turn you down then, eh?"

"I don't think it's going to work out. Winning...won't help in my case."

"Why ever not?" Inquires the interviewer.

"Because she came here with me."

The cameras move to show Katniss, wide eyes,mouth hanging open in shock.

"Oh, that is a piece of bad luck." Caesar says with seemingly genuine sadness.

Peeta just nods.

"She didn't know?"

"Not until now," Peeta admits

Caesar turns and asks, "Wouldn't you love to pull her back out here and get a response?"

_No! She'll ruin everything!_

They cheer and he reprimands them like a parent.

"Sadly, rules are rules, and Katniss Everdeen's time has been spent. Well, best of luck to you, Peeta Mellark, and I think I speak for all of Panem when I say our hearts go with yours."

Peeta thanks the Capitol for their time and takes his orginal seat next to Katniss.

The anthem plays, and with that, the interviews are over.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

Katniss is pissed.

Really, is there anything else to say after that?

Following the interviews, she just glares at Peeta, Effie, Ever, and I, sure that this was all a plot to make her look weak. The elevator ride up the twelfth floor is silent up until the doors open. Katniss's hand flies up and a loud _crack! _followed by a thud is all that we hear.

Ever, who is on the receiving end of Katniss's slap, is knocked out of the elevator and onto the floor. Effie screams and hurries out, and Peeta ducks as he follows behind her.

"You _bitch_! You fucking _bitch_!" Katniss screams at her as she starts to get up.

"What the hell was that for?" Ever shouts back.

"This was your idea, wasn't it? To make me look weak? Like the damsel in distress?"

"It doesn't make you look _weak_!" Ever argues. "It makes you desirable; something you could never pull off on your own. What with you being so hostile and uncooperative all the time."

"They want to watch me die! For fun! And you blame me for not cooperating?"

"Yes! I do! Because everyone knows that if they want to come home alive, they have to cooperate, they have to fake it! Save the hostility for later. Sure, your interview helped you out a bit but if it wasn't for Peeta's then your chances wouldn't be have as good as they are now."

"What the hell do you know? You're what, thirteen?"

"_Four_teen, thank you."

Katniss doesn't say anything. She bites her lip and begins to turn away from her, then balls her fist, makes a quarter turn, and punches her in the face. Ever prepares to punch her back, but before she can actually do it, I jump in and stop her fist.

"Ever Elizabeth." I scold.

"She started it," Ever complains.

"I don't care who started it, I'm finishing it!"

Ever sighs and slides her back down the wall. "Jerk."

"Live with it."

_Lovely, now I sound like an adult._

Luckily, Peeta changes the subject. "So," he starts, looking at Ever and I. "Any final words of advice?"

I swallow, realizing that this is probably the last time I'll ever see these two again. Not like it matters all too much to me. It's two more people to join the cast of my nightmares, and two more reasons to remind me not to care about another set of tributes again.

Katniss looks at me expectantly. "Well?"

"When the gong sounds, get the hell out of there. You're neither of you up to the blood bath at the Cornucopia. Just clear out, put as much distance as you can between yourselves and the others, and find a source of water. Got it?"

"And after that?" She asks.

"Stay alive."

They nod and that's the end of that.

* * *

_Blahh. I hate school. But, I'm starting to work it out. I'm hoping to get to 75 chapters and 900+ reviews by my 14th birthday (October 9th)._

_Next chapter will have the start of the Games- yay! Anything else in particular you'd like to see next chapter?_


	72. Creep

:(

* * *

**Creep**

* * *

_Feelin' uninspired_  
_Think I'll start a fire_  
_Everybody run_  
_Bobby's got a gun_

_..._

_Friends don't mean a thing_  
_Guess I'll leave it up to me_

**-**_Stone Temple Pilots "Creep"_

* * *

_Ever..._

I am woken up the next morning by Effie banging her fists against the door. "Get your lazy butt up, it's time to go to the control room and watch the Games!" I groan bury my face in the nice fluffy pillows, but Effie's voice is just too annoying to drown out. It's like nails on a chalkboard_. _No, it_ is _nails on a chalkboard.

Reluctantly, I get up and go through the same routine I did last last year- shower, get dressed, half-ass my hair, then go to the control room. One of the many places in the training center tributes aren't privy to is the control room, which is basically just a room with plain white walls and large flat screens all around the room. The televisions show more of the Games than is broadcast to the rest of Panem. That way, the mentors can be better prepared to send sponsor gifts.

When I get to the control room, I'm pleased to see that there a very few victors there, and no Careers except for District 4 has arrived yet. Which means Brutus isn't here to tick me off...yet. I find the group I sat with last year and take a seat between my father and best friend.

"So how long until the fun starts?" I yawn.

"You mean the Games, or the part where we get Districts 1, 2, and 4 _drunk _and they starting singing and getting naked?" Raewyn asks with a smirk.

"I meant the Games, but drunk Careers sound more fun."

"There's nothing funny about alcohol," Finnick says sternly.

"On the contrary, my friend. You plus alcohol equals a very entertaining time for me."

"Ever!" Daddy scolds.

"Daddy, ew! I wasn't talking about _that_, I was talking about me and drunk Finnick getting in an ABBA war with Brutus and Enobaria!"

* * *

_Finnick..._

_Funny, I don't remember getting drunk last year..._

Oh yeah. That's what happens when you get drunk._ Damn. Haymitch must not be able to remember half of his kid's life, then._

The same kid he practically ignores now. I catch ever's eye and beckon her closer. She begins to inch toward me and I put my arm around her. She leans her head against my shoulder and closes her eyes. I chuckle, "Tired, hun?"

"Tired is an understatement. I didn't sleep."

I smirk, "Should have slept with me. Would have made your night much better- ow!" I rub my shoulder where Haymitch just punched me.

"Do you _want _me to kill you?" He growls.

"Sorry. Ever is just so damn kind and huggable, I forget she's your offspring- ow! Stop hitting me!"

"Really, you two are a couple of children," Raewyn says as she walks in, holding Trinity with Eri in tow. "My four year old is more mature than the pair of you."

I get a little offended and repeat in the most childish voice, "'My four year old is more mature thank you two,' blah blah blip blip blur blee."

"Make that my nine month old."

* * *

_Haymitch..._

I listen in disgust as the victors of Districts 1 and 2 make bets on which tributes will die in the bloodbath. I hear District 12 mentioned, and smile to myself. The Capitol bought the star-crossed lovers story and there's no way the Gamemakers would let them die first thing. They can do anything, and they've kept people alive before.

That's one thing I will always owe Plutarch for. He pulled a few strings to keep a certain little girl alive longer for me.

The anthem of Panem plays and the emblem for the Games flashes across the screen. The tributes are rising to their platforms into a forest-like arena. The cornucopia stands at at least fifty feet high; weapons and backpacks are strewn across the open plain. There is a lake to the right of the tributes, and sparse, piney woods surrounding the remainder of the platform area.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin," announces Claudius Templesmith.

Sixty seconds later, the gong sounds, releasing them from their platforms. Now, the Games have begun. I watch Katniss intently as she runs for a bow and arrow. I curse at her though she can't hear me. I didn't expect her to follow my instructions anyway, so I'm not sure why I'm surprised. I know I didn't follow my own advice twenty-four years ago, but I figured that as a kid from District 12, and twice as many tributes, my chances of being on someone's hit-list were little to none. I didn't exactly get an 11 in training, either.

Katniss dives in for a backpack, but the boy from District 9 is reaching for the same one.

Raewyn closes her eyes. "I can't look," She whispers. Just as she opens her eyes, the boy takes a knife in the back, spattering Katniss with blood. She gasps and cringes as he falls to the ground and a canon signifies his death.

The girl from District 2 who just killed the boy pulls out another one of her knives and prepares to aim at Katniss. As much as she annoys me, I've got to hand it to her. She is one lucky girl. The knife lodges itself into the orange backpack rather than her body, and she continues running.

At the very least, I'm hoping she sticks to the bit about staying off the beaten path and staying away from the other tributes. Much to my satisfaction, she does.

Ever's focus is on the other tribute entirely. I turn my attention to Peeta Mellark and see that he is conversing with the District 1 boy, the head of the Career pack. The monstrous boy's spear is raised, but his face lacks the intent to kill. My best guess is that Peeta is in the process of talking him down.

"Think about it, Marvel. We can team up. You me, Cato, Clove, what's-her-name from 4...we could do it!" Peeta says.

"Why in the world would I let a weakling District 12er like _you _into the Career pack, hm?"

"You're honestly not worried about my District partner, Marvel?" Peeta inquires.

Marvel scoffs, "Not at all. The bitch is just like you. The bottom of the food chain."

"Than you're a fool. You don't score and 11 in training for nothing. Marvel, I don't even know how she got that score." Peeta's voice is urgent but not pleading. Judgin my the way Marvel's facial expression is changing, Mellark's persuasion skills are paying off.

"And you, Loverboy? Do you honestly believe you'd be fooling anybody with your act if you're simply protecting her?" He sneers.

"But I'm not," Peeta says icily. "You're not telling me you believe that story are you? What are the odds?"

Marvel contemplates for a moment and lowers his spear. "Okay. Truce. Allies. But fuck up and you're dead! Are we clear?"

"Crystal," A smug expression creeps across Peeta's face and leaves just as mysteriously as it arrived.

_District 12 may have its fourth victor yet._

* * *

_Peeta..._

Marvel leads me to where the rest of the Careers are waiting, and immediately the girl from District 1 lifts her her flail. "What the hell is District 12 doing here?

I think her name is Glimmer. She is beautiful, but nothing compared to Katniss- I prefer brunettes to blondes anyway.

"The girl," Marvel growls. "He can lead us to her. And we can kill her."

Outwardly, I am stoic, silent. On the inside, I am screaming, begging for Katniss's life.

After a short while of a continued awkward discussion, I hear a twig snap. I close my eyes and just hope that it isn't Katniss. If it is, she's dead. The next thing I hear is an ear-splitting scream and Clove's laughter. I open my eyes to see Clove holding a knife in either hand, and a girl on the forest floor with a knife in her arm and tears rolling down her face.

Clove smiles like she is fondly reminiscing and says, "You. I killed your district partner at the cornucopia. Guess I'll kill you, too."

"It hurts," Whimpers the girl like a scared child. Her response is typical to that of what I imagine a twelve-year-old's would be, but she can't be younger than fifteen or sixteen. I pity her, and I want to intervene. Yet, I can't.

_Katniss._

"Clove," Cato scolds. "You needn't be so heartless."

Clove rolls her eyes as Cato sits on the ground beside the girl. He strokes her hair and looks at her with a fatherly grin. "Sh, there there. Stop your crying, I'm not gonna hurt 'ya."

The girl sobs some more and Cato just keeps comforting her.

"What District are you from?"

"N-n-nine."

My eyes widen as I realize who she is. She is the mentally challenged girl from District 9. Cato doesn't care about her. I heard him talking about her in training; he thinks she is a weirdo and he wanted to 'kill the retard' himself. His words. Not mine.

"You miss home, sweetie?" He whispers.

"Mm hm," She nods.

He wraps his arm around and an whispers. "I can make that pain end."

"Which pain?" She mouthed.

"Your arm, and missing home."

"Really?"

He smiles sweetly, "Yes ma'am. I can take it _all _ away."

"How?" She inquires excitedly.

"With this," He stands up, grabs Glimmer's flail from her hand, and proceeds to beat the girl from District 9 with it. She screams, and she screams and she screams, but to no avail. When the blows from the flail cease, they are replaced by ones from his fists. The punches just keep coming at her and coming at her, until Clove throws a knife into her jugular vein and pushes it in further. Cato stops and allows his district partner to have her fun with the poor girl.

She has stopped screaming, but no canon has gone off to signify her death. The girl from 4 checks for a pulse. She grins and says, "Still alive. Fading, but still alive. Think she can still feel pain?"

Cato stomps on her foot with all his might, breaking the bones with a sickening _crack! _

The girl from 9 gasps in pain as the blood pours from her neck.

"_Ohh yeah,_" says Cato. "She can feel every little thing."

The torture of the girl continues until finally, finally, _finally_- _boom!_

* * *

My little sister wrote that last four or five lines or so of Finnick's POV XD I let her for some reason...

**Sorry **I know it's been forever. It's not the best, but it's the start of the Games. Next chapter will be longer- at least 3,000 words, but hopefully 3,500+. School is so time consuming- I finally had my emotional breakdown today XD (Zoe is a lifesaver).

I'm 14 now- as of 2 days ago :) Yay!

I'm taking the PSATs and my first ever college midterm _and _a Holocaust survivor is coming to speak to my 5th period English class tomorrow, so I actually should have been in bed about thirty minutes ago...


	73. Trouble Is A Friend

I am back! And alive, don't forget alive :-)

I had major writer's block, school is hectic, and just…wow. Thanks to my new and awesome beta zxskunkmuffinxz, I have a great update. Seriously, he like, wrote more than half the chapter. A million thank yous :D

* * *

**Trouble is a Friend**

* * *

_Trouble he will find you_

_No matter where you go, oh oh_

_-Lenka "Trouble Is A Friend"_

* * *

Haymitch...

As the cannon fires for the District 9 girl, Raewyn reaches around me and grabs a bottle of liquor. "Well," she sighs, opening it. "Guess my job's done for the year."

Finnick backhands me and exclaims, "Look what you've done! You turned sweet, innocent, mama-bear Raewyn into an alcoholic! Shame on you!"

"There's a difference been a leisure-drinker like me, and an alcoholic." She says, putting the bottle on the floor.

Finnick keeps glaring at me for a second longer until Ever taps him on the shoulder and whispers something in his hear, making him smile at her. "Mm, if you ever become an alcoholic I'm going to kick your ass, hun. But I still love you.

I roll my eyes at them. My feelings about Finnick and Ever alternate between relief, irritation, happiness, annoyance, disgust, and 'Aw! So cute!' Though, I can never confront him about it because I'm the one that begged him to cross that line with her. I will never confront her about it because after all that she's been through in the past two years or so, I know that whenever Finnick is involved, she's happy, and unorthodox as it is, she deserves to smile.

I turn my attention from my daughter and the twenty-three year old and focus on the screen. By the end of the bloodbath, six more cannons other than the District 9 pair's go off. The sun begins to set and the Careers set up camp. The Career pack lost its District 4 boy, and gained Peeta and the boy from 3. Beetee- while disapproving of the Careers- smiles proudly for his tribute as he digs up the mines from the cornucopia and places them around the pyramid of Career supplies.

"This must be a first in the Games," Chaff says.

"The Capitol will eat this up," Ever agrees.

"District 12 might make it to the final five yet!" Finnick says with his typical snarky attitude

"Shut up."

"Idiot!" Finnick exclaims, pointing at the screen. The girl from District 8 is starting a fire close to where Peeta and the careers are. Finnick yawns and pats Ever's knee. "I think you and I both know how this is going to end. I'm going to bed- join me?" He leans over and kisses her cheek.

As much as it irks me, I have to admire his audacity.

Ever yawns softly and says, "I'm going to see how Peeta does tonight, then I'll be up. If I'm down here for too long, get me."

Finnick kisses Ever's forehead and bids her goodnight.

When he's out of sight, she grabs a throw pillow and moves to another couch to stretch her legs. "Daddy, you're blocking the screen. Try shrinking a foot or two...or three."

I can't help but to chuckle at my daughter's comment. "This room got really boring after Raewyn went to put the baby to sleep. I was about to go to bed, anyway."

She half-smiles and says, "Oh, I see. Your fun girlfriend is a better Games-watching buddy than your daughter." She turns her head away. "You're cut off."

"Hm, my fourteen year old tells me I'm cut off. For some reason, that's not very damaging."

* * *

_Ever..._

"Hm, my fourteen year old tells me I'm cut off. For some reason, that's not very damaging."

I can't help but smile at his comment as he kisses my forehead and walks away. Even though Finnick has left, I can still have some fun with Chaff and Seeder. Until I realize that they left some time ago as well. I can't help but let out a groan that, unfortunately, Brutus and Aeneas heard.

Brutus grins at me at says, "What's the matter, Abernathy? No Capitol men want you tonight? I can sympathize with them. I mean, who would want to have sex with you?"

It takes all my strength not to slap the living daylights out of him. He can take the mickey out of me for my looks, but not about the fact that I'm a Capitol whore.

"Yeah? Well at least I have people who have wanted me in the past; unlike you. You have only experienced it with your hand."

"_Finnick Odair_ doesn't count, girlie," Aeneas sneered.

The victors that don't know; Beetee, all the 4 victors except for Finnick, 5, 6, 7, 8 victors, stare at me in shock. _They probably guessed, but could never confirm it,_ I think. Slowly, Johanna Mason walks over to Brutus and slaps him. She has to duck a wild punch from him before taking one to the gut, but I think that she did well considering how much smaller she is than him.

Beetee walks over to me and hugs me, as I have tears in my eyes. It takes all my will power to not break down in front of the Career victors and run to Finnick. Well, that is until I realize that the Career victors are all laughing hysterically at me. Then I just storm out of the Control Room and run towards the elevator as fast as I can and press 4.

Finnick is waiting for me when I unlock his door. He obviously doesn't know about what happened downstairs in the Control Room. He's grinning like a maniac with just his boxers on. He reminds me so much of William. I just want to vomit and run out_. Don't think like that. He is trying to help you. He isn't one of your customers, _I think, scolding myself mentally.

"Why so downcast?" Finnick frowns.

"It doesn't matter," I say quickly. "Just Brutus and his scumbag son annoying me again."

"He didn't try to rape you again, did he?" Asks Finnick angrily, a murderous look in his eye.

"No! I would have kicked him again. Remember last year?"

Finnick cracks a grin, remembering that day. It was the first day of the 73 Games.

Taking a deep breath, I look at him and say, "Listen Finnick. I want to do it again."

He stops grinning instantly. "Are you sure, honey? I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to. I'm not forcing you to do anything you don't want to."

"I'm sure, Finn. Please?"

He nods his head and agrees. "Okay," Slowly, he closes the gap between us and slips his arm around my waist. "You're a bit overdressed, don't you think?"

* * *

_Finnick..._

Even after having done this with her twice before, I can't get over the oddity of it all. She isn't just some forty-something sexually deprived housewife. She's Ever, she's my best friend. Most importantly, she's the girl whose life I've sworn to protect, and I love her. It's an odd sort of love; not completely platonic, but I'm not _in _love with her, either. I'm in love with Annie, and I always will be, but my devotion to Ever is unmatched.

I feel a light tap on my shoulder some time after the act that pulls me away from my thoughts. "Yeah, Ev?"

She sits up, wearing nothing but my shirt and her pajama shorts, and begins to tie her hair in a ponytail. "Everyone knows now," she says, avoiding eye contact with me.

"What do you mean?"

"Brutus. He told everybody that you and I have...done...stuff."

_That scumbag dickfaced asshole!_ "Ever, sweetie. Who cares?"

"_I _care, Finn! They all laughed at me like I am some silly child! They all think I'm some ga-ga eyed fool and I'm _not_."

I wrap my arms around her and lower her back down onto the pillow. "Ever Elizabeth Abernathy, listen to me. I don't care what they think, and neither should you. Yes, they'll laugh at you, and yes, they'll annoy the hell out of you but...you're a beautiful, wonderful person. And Brutus and his gang of careers are just a bunch of pompous, ignorant, stuck-up, fuckfaced, dumb bastards. Calling them stupid would be an insult to stupid people. Are you really going to let people who make our IQs drop ten points just by walking into the room get to you?"

"Yes!" She exclaims. "Finn, they are two, two and half times my age. They can do more damage than I can."

"Ever, so what? Who cares what they think? They're all walking talking sacks of monkey dung and you're better than them. I know it bothers you, but...I love you. And I promise, they'll only mess with you if you're alone. Stick with me or your dad, or even Beetee and they'll leave you alone."

"Even Beetee?"

"He'd report anything to me and Haymitch, and not even Brutus wants to feel the wrath of two pissed-off victors who could kick his incompetent ass."

Ever giggles and says, "I don't know which of your insults is funnier!"

"Happy now?" I ask her.

"Absolutely."

"Good," I kiss her forehead. "Now go to sleep, hun."

* * *

_Haymitch…_

_(7:30am the next day)_

Brutus walks into the Control Room with an usually large smirk on his face. This morning, he's looking directly at me. I glare and Brutus and make sure he sees it. He just grins and me and says something to Enobaria; damn careers. The whole lot of them are irritating.

"Hi daddy!" Ever says brightly, walking into the room with Finnick's hand in hers.

"Oh hey, sweetheart," I pause and glare at her 'buddy.' " Hey Finnick, would you be ever so kind as to let go of my daughter's hand before I rip yours off?"

"Fine," he mock grumbles.

"So…you're okay with us having _sex_, but holding hands is taboo?" Ever inquires, raising an eyebrow.

"Holding hands is public thing. Sex isn't- at least I _hope _it's not," I add.

"Well, there was this one time-" Finnick starts.

"Finnick! I do not want to hear about your sexual escapades with my little girl. Clear?"

"Crystal," he says, taking a seat on one of the couches. He pats the spot beside him for Ever to sit.

"Did Katniss and Peeta make it through the night?" Ever inquires.

I don't even have to answer her inquiry, because the screen cuts right to a split view on the two "star-crossed lovers of District 12."

The loud voice of the Games commentator, Claudius Templesmith greets Panem:

_"Good morning Panem! It is the second day of the seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games and we are already off to a wonderful start. For the first time in the history of the Games, we have a pair of star-crossed lovers. Even better? They from our very own District 12!"_

He pauses before continuing;

_"For those of you just _burning _to see our star-crossed lovers meet in the arena, just wait. Don't get too _fired up_, sparks will _fly_ very, very shortly. Just wait and see, Panem, thing will really start to_ heat _up._"

I frown as Templesmith grins into the camera. I don't like the sound of this. Before I even have time to try and puzzle together what he was hinting at, the arena spontaneously erupts in flames.

I watch the screen in horror as the fire starts. If Katniss doesn't wake up soon, she will be engulfed in it. The cameras focus on her as she wakes up groggily before literally jumping from the tree and landing hard. Lucky she had all her stuff already packed.

"Ohmigod! What have those Gamemakers done this time? This happened in my Games," says Ever, her face going pale and her eyes drifting to some faraway place.

"We know Ever," I say sympathetically. Her reaction is the same as mine would be if I saw anything like those candy pink birds again.

_Maysilee..._

Or those foxes from Rose and Raewyn's Games. Those were freaky as hell.

Reluctantly, I turn my attention back to the flames on the screen, "Woah! Now_ that_ is taking things too far! Firing actual fireballs at the trib-" I groan and swear loudly as one of the fireballs hits Katniss' calf.

"Haymitch! You shouldn't use that language near your daughter," says Raewyn, entering the room with Chaff.

"Sorry Rae," I say as Eri makes a _wha-chh! _sound and Ever, Finnick and Chaff fake cough "whipped". I turn to glare at them before I realize that Raewyn is laughing along with them.

"So, what happened while I was asleep?" Asks Raewyn. As I fill her in on the fire and stuff, I realize that the Capitol has focused in on Peeta and the Careers who are all running, obviously chasing someone. _I sure hope it isn't Katniss._ I choose to ignore the TV, anyway.

"Erm Haymitch? You may want to look at the screen."

"What, Chaff?" I say, too focused on Raewyn to really pay attention to anything else.

"It's your tribute, Katniss it think her name is, she just went up a tree."

"What's so significant about that? It's a tree." I ask, not really caring about that.

"The Careers are trying to go up the tree with her," says Finnick.

My head snaps around to stare at the screen, and in doing so I pull a muscle in my neck. As I massage it I notice the cameras change angle so that I suddenly see a pair of eyes, followed by a head and then slowly the rest of her body.

"Who's that?" I ask.

"Rue," answers Raewyn and Chaff together. "She's the little twelve year old. Katniss could never kill someone as young as her sister."

"Didn't she get like a 7 or 8 in training?" asks Ever. All Chaff does is nod, paying too much attention to the screen than is healthy.

"I hope you get out of this alive, Katniss," I whisper to myself.

* * *

_Peeta..._

As Glimmer tries to climb the tree, I try desperately to distract her. I look around wildly, finding absolutely nothing. Great. Just great. Whenever I need something it's never there, but whenever I don't need something it always is there. I have struggle containing my laughter as I watch Glimmer tumble hopelessly to the ground, bow and all. As Cato helps her up, I suggest that I go up but Cato waves the idea away, insisting that I stay on the ground and he goes up.

We all watch, holding our breath for different reasons. I'm holding it because if he gets to Katniss she's as good as dead. I can't let it happen. Then, to my elation and to the others disappointment, Cato stops as he hears branches snapping under his weight. He slowly climbs down and we hold a quick Chinese parliament. We all agree that it would be best to just stay under the tree and wait for her to get hungry or thirsty meaning she would have to go down.

As the anthem plays, I see movement out of the corner of my eye. Eyes follow and then a head. I'm positive that no one else noticed it on the ground as they are all asleep, except Glimmer who is trying desperately to stay awake as she is supposed to be keeping guard. I could just slit all their throats and be done with it, I think. Then I remember my conversation with Katniss on the roof. I remember it because it mean't time alone with Katniss Everdeen. Time that I cherished and loved every minute of. If I killed these people, then I would become one of them. Murderers. I could never kill anyone in cold blood. It's just not my style, I think to myself and smirk slightly. Above me I hear the rustling of leaves followed by what sounded like buzzing. I look up just as something shoots past me left shoulder, landing right on Glimmers right shoulder. She screams, waking the others from their slumbers. As I get up I notice the wasps for the first time. They had a distinct gold body. I look over at Glimmer who has been stung no less than four times. Each sting has inflamed to the size of kiwifruit. _Tracker jackers. Why, Katniss, why?_

I hear Cato ordering us to retreat to the lake that we found earlier. At the same time I hear Clove and Marvel screaming threats and abuse at Katniss, threatening to rip out her throat or cut her head off and, to put it nicely, urinate down her neck. Cato and I have the worst of the bites, other than Glimmer who is lagging behind us, probably trying to shoot at Katniss.

Just as we arrive at the lake we hear the cannon go. Marvel, Cato, and Clove hoping that it is (as they put it) the bitch on fire. I know that Glimmer died, having been the only one to see her while the others ran off. Outwardly I'm saying that it's Katniss that died but inwardly I'm cheering and jumping for joy that one of the Careers dies.

Marvel tells Cato and I to go and see if Katniss is alive, and if she is then we are to shoot her straight away. We comply and head off in the direction that we just came from. We break into a run when we find some jackers chasing us. I'm faster and have less stings so I'm slightly ahead of Cato. When I break through the bush with my spear raised to keep up appearances, I am amazed, surprised and slightly angered to find Katniss bent over Glimmers body, retrieving the bow and arrow that I stopped her from getting.

"What are you doing here?" I hiss, keeping my voice down so Cato won't be alarmed. I prod her with the spear shaft, "Are you insane? Get up! Get up!" She doesn't trust me and to be honest, I'm not surprised. I joined the Careers to keep her safe but she doesn't know that yet.

I hear footsteps behind me and know that I'm dead, that Cato is coming and he will kill me. "Run!" I scream at her and finally she complies.

I turn my back on her just as Cato slashes my thigh. It's excruating and I cry out in pain. I know it's deep and you could probably see the bone but I don't care right now. My main priority is to buy Katniss some time. Enough time for her to hide and be far away from Cato.

Cato smirks at me, obviously liking that I was in so much pain. "I never did trust you, lover boy. I was going to kill you tonight or tomorrow, but now is a good time." He walks away leaving me just lying my leg, moaning.

"You're just going to leave me here? Aren't you going to stab me through the heart or something?" I ask desperately to which he replies,

"Where is the fun in that? No, I'm going to let you suffer a slow and painful death in which you will regret betraying us and in the end I hope you will take your own life. You can dream, you know."


	74. The Pros And Cons Of Breathing

**Hi :) Wow. I apologize. My Games timeline is sooo screwed up. But that's okay. I'm revising this summer :)**

If you're reading, PLEASE review? Even if it's just a smiley face. I used to average about 10-14 per chapter but now there's usually only 3 or 4... I KNOW that my updates are slower now, but that isn't my fault. School is so busy and crazy and I have exams EVERY day this next week...

I know I'm not going to get back up to 10-14 a chapter, but I'm hoping for 5? Your opinions are important! I love hearing ideas for the story. I need feedback to write, because, honestly, I don't know if people like it or dislike it unless I get feedback. Constructive crit is also ALWAYS encouraged.

Also, There is a new project in the Hunger Games fandom that I am a part of. The basics of it is that 24 authors each take on one of the 24 tributes to write about in the 24th Hunger Games. The fic is called Tears of Blood, and is posted under the account 24tributes24authors.

My character is the District 4 girl, her chapter is up.

The list of authors are as follows:

Booksandmusic97, Jojob19, Lexi Blaze, Isabugg, zxskunkmuffinxz, LegendOfZeldaFreak, SneverusSnapers, nightfuries, PenMySword, Cottoncandychoctop, Packman23, Sallen, Magentapen, live. love. laugh. write, PhoenixRefrain, Yelof530, FritzasPritz, PumpkinGrin, Mrslukecastellean, Jayfish, PearyPants44, Life is but a Daydream, Cloud-Lover26 and Falconflight.

This was all put together by the _amazing _mikki105

Please check the fic out, there is a link to it on my profile.

(As far as updating my own fics go, it's going. Slowly but surely. If you have any questions about the 24-24-24 collab, or my fics, then feel free to PM me.)

* * *

**The Pros And Cons Of Breathing**

* * *

_I want to hate you half as much as I hate myself  
But you know that I could crush you with my voice_

Stood on my roof and tried to see you forgetting about me  
Hide the details I don't want to know a thing

I hate the way you say my name like it's something secret  
My pen is the barrel of the gun. Remind me which side you should be on

_-Fall Out Boy "The Pros And Cons Of Breathing"_

* * *

_Ever..._

The victors from 1 and 2 are all cheering on Cato as he slices open Peeta's leg. Daddy looks murderous, Finnick looks sick at what Cato just said, and to be quite honest, so do I.

In the middle of the room, there is a phone that connects to the to the Gamemakers' office. Lying on the table next to it, is a list of gifts us mentors can send the tributes. Daddy jumps right up and goes to the center of the room. I see him look down the list of gifts that he can send into the arena. He obviously isn't happy about something because we see him nearly rip the phone off its cradle. Since the phone is smack in the middle of the Control Room, everyone hears what he's saying.

Daddy puts on a calm-ish voice as he asks to talk to Seneca Crane, the head Gamemaker. As soon as Crane comes on the line, Daddy explodes.

"Why the hell isn't the medicine on the list of gifts that I can give my stupid tributes? I don't care what Snow is making you do. If I don't receive a new and updated list of gifts with the medicine on it within the next two hours, then I will go over to your house, kill all of your family and piss down their necks. I don't care if you are going to invite them to a feast when it's down to 5 or 6. He won't last that long, now will he?"

The room goes deadly quiet after that. He slams the phone down, then rips it out of its socket for good measure. We all know that no one threatens a Gamemaker, certainly not the head one.

Finnick tries to lighten the mood, "Well, I think that went well. Don't you all agree?"

"Shut up, Finnick," Daddy snaps.

Raewyn has to clap her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. Honestly, her sense of humor is a kind of its own.

Peacekeepers burst into the already crowded room and beeline for my father. "Abernathy! President Snow would like a word with you!" Barks a female Peacekeeper.

"Fuck Snow!" Daddy snaps, but he complies and follows the Peacekeepers out.

"Do you think he will be alright?" I ask Seeder quietly.

"I'm sure they are just sending him to his room to vent off some steam, sweetheart," she assures me.

"But he said 'F Snow...'"

Raewyn laughs, "If they killed off victors just for saying 'F Snow' and freaking out on the occasional Gamemaker, half of us wouldn't be here."

"After all the times Haymitch has pissed off the Capitol? Trust me, kid, it'll take nothing short of a rebellion to get him on Snow's list." Seeder says.

* * *

_Katniss..._

_(Two day time jump)_

_What day is this? How long have I been out?_

It was morning when I lost reason. Now it is sometime in the afternoon. The stiffness in my joints tells me that it has been more than just a few hours. Maybe even days. If so, I have no way of knowing who survived the tracker jacker attack. Certainly not Glimmer from 1, or the girl from District 4, but about the monstrous boys from 1 and 2? Clove? What about Peeta, who saved my life? And Rue? Little Rue? Oh god. She's so small...her little body...it wouldn't take many stings to do her in. But to sting her, the tracker jackers would have to catch her, and she'd have a good head start.

A foul, rotten taste pervades my mouth, and water has little effect on it. I drag my body to the nearest honeysuckle and pluck a flower. I squeeze a drop of nectar on my tongue. The sweetness spreads throughout my mouth, my tongue, my throat and warms my veins with memories of summer and the woods and Gale's presence beside me. For some reason, my mind wanders to the discussion we had that last morning I spent at home.

_"We could do it, you know."_

_"What?"_

_"Leave the District. Run off. Live in the woods. We could do it, you and I."_

And suddenly, I'm not thinking of Gale but of Peeta...Peeta. Who saved my life. And suddenly, I realize that absolutely nothing makes sense to me. Was he trying to play out the Lover Boy angle? Or was he really trying to protect me? If so, why? And what was he doing with the Careers anyway?

I begin to think about what Gale would think of the incident, but I quickly push those thoughts from my mind. For some reason, Peeta and Gale don't coexist well together in my mind. So I focus on the only good thing that has happened since I've set foot in this arena.

I've got a bow and a quiver of arrows. They're much fancier than my weapons at home, but I can work with them.

With these weapons, I stand a chance. With these weapons, I could easily bring down Cato and the Careers. With these weapons, I can win. With these weapons, I can go home to Prim, to Gale.

There's just one problem...Peeta Mellark.

How can I win without killing him? And for a moment, I pray that the trackers jackers got him. And I feel guilty.

For the majority of the remainder of the afternoon, I wander around the arena looking for food. I easily shoot down a strange-looking bird that looks something like a turkey. Anyway, it looks edible enough. By late afternoon, I decide to build a small fire to cook the meat. I trust that the twilight will hide the smoke, and I will quench the fire by midnight, ensuring that the Careers won't find me. After plucking the bird, I discover that it is no bigger than a chicken. I take some pieces of the bird and place them on the coals.

That is when I hear the twig snap.

In one quick motion, the bow and arrow is brought to my shoulder. Nobody. At least, not that I can see. I begin to turn around, but I am stopped by the sight of a child's boot. She can move through the woods like a shadow, that's for sure. How else could she possible have followed me.

The words fall from my mouth before I can stop them. "They're not the only one that can form alliances, you know."

Slowly, she moves from behind the tree. "You really want me as an ally?" The hopeful tone to her voice is heartbreaking.

"Yeah," I shrug casually. "You're smart enough to still be alive. You saved me from those tracker jackers. Besides, something tells me that I won't be shaking you anytime soon." Rue blinks her eyes at me, decision in her eyes. "You hungry?" I offer. She swallows and her eyes dart toward toward the cooking bird.

"I can fix your stings," she says, tentatively stepping forward.

"Can you?" I ask. "How?"

And so the friendship begins.

* * *

_Ever..._

Shortly after the incident with Seneca Crane and the telephone, an Avox comes into the room with another request from a Capitol man. The rest of the day and night is filled with client after client, eager to get their hands on me. Truthfully, though, I don't mind it as much as I used to. If doing this means I can bring tributes home, then well, I might as well just _do it._

"Ever," the purr of this afternoon's client, thirty-one year old Gamemaker Kaiser Roman pulls me out of my thoughts. Kaiser is third in command, right after Seneca Crane and Plutarch whats-his-face.

The Gamemakers like to indulge themselves in the services of the young victors of Panem, particularly me. It's disgusting, but it does have it's benefits. Namely, special favors for my tributes. As much as Katniss pisses me off, I agree with my father when he says she is our best chance this year. So, when Kaiser Roman calls my name, I don't hesitate to approach him. I put on my mask and play my part. The seduction, the compliments, the sex; it's all second nature to me now.

Perhaps that is why he doesn't detect my ulterior motives, not even after I reveal them.

"So, " I say mischievously, tracing lines on his chest with my finger. "Do you think you can do a little favor for me?"

"Anything, darling." The Gamemaker whispers lovingly.

"I need you," I say slowly. "To make sure my tributes make it far."

"But the boy is nearly dead," Kaiser protests.

I giggle, "Figure something out, silly."

He licks his lips and says, "If your tributes can just make it a few more days...I think I can talk Seneca into a feast. You can choose a very expensive gift for your tributes at no cost to you whatsoev-"

I pretend like I don't want to vomit when I plant a kiss on his lips. "That's what I want to hear."

With that, I crawl out of the bed, get dressed, and leave. And as much as I want to, I don't hate Kaiser Roman nearly as much as I hate myself.

* * *

Apologies for the shortness!

Nick: The rest of the stuff you gave me will be in the next chapter :)

Also, for everybody: Anything in particular you'd like to see within the next few chapters?


	75. White Rabbit

I apologize for the late update. I meant to update sooner, but...personal things got in the way. One of them, being that Nick- my beta, friend, confidant, and fellow Tears of Blood author- died in mid-January after falling into a coma after his body reacted badly to blood given to him. It's been hard to work on this chapter, as he contributed a lot to the past few and I felt...bad. It was impossible to touch my keyboard without wanting to cry or shut off my laptop. It's been difficult to write this chapter. I tried to make it perfect, but I'm almost positive that it is not up to the standards I hoped it would.

* * *

In happier news:

Thank you to SneverusSnapers, another fellow TOB author, for spam-reviewing this fic to get me to 1,000. Though she didn't read it, it means a lot. :P

* * *

And a little advertising...I highly suggest reading anything by Phoenix Refrain. She's another amazing TOB author, and I'm in the middle of reading **The Phoenix: Burning Day **and the last four chapters I've read have made me bawl like a baby.

Also, check out **Two Fires** by isabugg :) I've only read the first chapter, but my friend Kirsten loves it. No, she's _obsessed_ with it.

* * *

I'm a terrible person you guys. The teaser from the A/N? Is for NEXT chapter. It WAS going to be in this one, but it didn't...flow. Unless you wanted a 13,000 words chapter filled with mostly useless garbage.

* * *

Because I'm a geek and I have to try and sound smart, I gave the drugs in this chapter accurate-ish names by translating words into toher alnguages and combinding them XD

_Kivitas_, "Kivy" from:

Kiihottaa- Finnish- Increase/excite/arouse/stimulate

Navitas- Latin- Energy/Zeal/Enthusiasm

_Izpervati, _"IZ" from:

Peritia- Latin- Experience/ability/skill

Izazvati- Croatian- Cause/trigger/enduce

* * *

So. I looked up symptoms of stimulant drug use and abuse for this chapter. I left the window open, my dad saw it, and I got interrogated. Ha. I love my family.

* * *

**White Rabbit**

* * *

_One pill makes you larger  
And one pill makes you small  
And the ones that mother gives you  
Don't do anything at all_

_-Jefferson Airplane "White Rabbit"_

* * *

_Ever…_

I fumble around in the pocket of my jeans for the key to my room at the Training Center. It feels weird coming up here, since I hardly spend my nights here anymore.

When I manage to find a key, I realize it's the key to Finnick's room on the fourth floor. I swear and just kind of stand there as I reach into every place a key could be hidings; front pocket, back pockets, down my shirt. Finally, I sit down on the floor, take off the flats I'm wearing, and turn then upside down one at a time. I'm so determined to find the key, that I don't even hear the heavy footsteps until they're within ten feet of me.

"Having fun there, sweetheart?"

"Oh, shut up- oh my gosh!" I jump up from the floor and onto my feet. "Since when did you get here? What happened with the Peacekeepers?"

Daddy shrugs, "They just brought me to Snow so he could lecture me on 'watching where I tread.' And of course he held you over my head again. Let's just say there are worse things he can do to you than make you a prostitute."

I half-smile and stand there silently for a moment.

"So….you gonna tell me why you were just on the floor beating your shoes like puppies?" He says.

"Trying to find a key so I can go to sleep."

"You _do _realize that I still have both of your keys, right?" He says.

"Obviously not," I say in the bitchiest voice I can manage.

Daddy raises his eyebrows at me and says calmly, "Ever, don't use that tone with me."

"Right. Sorry," I sigh.

"Ever what are you so angry about?" He asks.

I sigh at him and stare at my feet. "Snow's punishing me for your little episode with Seneca Crane. I've had five appointments since this morning. Five, Dad! I'm not even a person to them anymore. I feel like a walking sex toy and it's all your fault!"

Daddy says nothing. He takes a few steps closer to me and hugs me, mumbling something I don't quite hear. I ask him to repeat it and he says remorsefully, "I'm sorry. I should have known that that's what would happen. It's all my fault, sweetheart, all of the bad things that keep happening to you. I'm sorry. That's not the kind of life you des-"

"Damn right it's not!" I say, pushing him away and stamping my foot. "They took a syringe full of some stimulant drugs and stuck the needle in my arm _just _so I could make it to the next appointment! Look!" I throw up the sleeve of my shirt and show him the little black marks left by the drug they'd given me.

"Let me see your eyes," he says desperately.

"Why?" I snap.

He grabs my head and stares into my eyes. "Your pupils are dilated. And you're sweating excessively. You're hostile-" Before he can continue, I push him away and aim a punch at his face. He catches my fist and says, "-and aggressive. Flushed skin...do you have a headache?"

"Yeah, so?" I say begrudgingly.

"I've seen stimulant drug use before. Do you know what they gave you? Kivy? IZ? God, Ever. Did they give you cocaine? Meth? Speed? Ever, are you on _speed?_"

"I don't know! All I remember is someone sticking a needle in my arm. Now give me a key. I want to go to bed."

My father hands me a key to my room, but he follows me in. A part of me wants to protest, wants to kick him out, wants to yell at him again; but most of me welcomes his paternal actions. Even when I'm mad at him and hyped up on stimulant drugs, any attempts he makes at fatherly gestures mean a great deal to me. As I grow older, his drinking progressively worsens and his they occur less often.

I feel dizzy and grip the wall to steady myself. Surges of pain move through my abdomen and chest, hurting so badly that I bite my lip.

Daddy wraps an arm around me and pulls me off of the wall. In a low and gentle voice, he tells me he knows what I feel like. "I've been through the same thing. Come here,"

_Look at that pitiful bitch, _hisses a voice I've been hearing since the third shot of stimulants. _Has to have her daddy drag her around like an infant._

"Who said that?" I snap at the phantom voice.

"No one said anything princess," Daddy whispers. "Auditory hallucinations. Dammit! How much did they give you?"

"I lost count at six or seven syringes-"

"Shit," he swears. "Fuck."

"What's the most you've had?" I ask.

He hesitates but finally answers with a firm, "On several occasions, I've counted to maybe ten or eleven, so there could have possibly been more. They nearly made me OD a few times; almost killed me. You were seven the last time it happened."

I struggle to form words, the negative side effects of the drugs taking over. "Why'd the Capitol make you take stimulant drugs?"

"Same reason as you."

"But you said you were never forced into prostitution," I argue weakly.

"I lied."

"Why?"

"You'll understand one day," he says sharply. "Ever, I think I should take you to the hospital."

I push him away and tell him no hospitals. He tries to argue his case, saying that he's only worried about me and taking into consideration the amount of drugs in my system, and the large number of side effects that are evident, a hospital visit would be wise. After a short debate, I win by saying that if I were in any immediate danger it'd be obvious by now, and that six or more syringes of narcotics doesn't necessarily mean they were _full _and for all he knows, it could have been a weak version of the drug. Knowing the Capitol, who can be sure?

I can tell that my father isn't happy with my decision to not go to the hospital and I pretend not to care but truthfully, I do. These sudden upsurges of fatherly affection are rare and here I am rejecting it.

Even so, he's not getting angry with me. I guess that goes along with the whole "unconditional love for your children" thing. He keeps an arm across my back to steady me as I try to walk to the bed without stumbling. When I finally make it, he pulls the blankets back for me and tucks me in like I'm a small child, which makes me think back to all of the other times he's had to baby me in the past two years.

_Pathetic, _I think to myself. _You're pathetic, Ever._

"Are you sure you're okay?" He says fretfully as he wrings his hands.

"Yeah," I lie. "Tell me what happened with Snow."

"I already told you. I received a lengthy lecture, that's it, but I promise you there will be no more death threats against Gamemakers and their families."

"You said earlier that he threatened you with me again. What do you mean by that?"

He sighs heavily and says dismissively, "Go to sleep, Ever."

"Tell me," I demand sleepily.

"Every time I've stepped out of line since you were born, Snow's tried to use you against me since he knew you were the only person I cared about. They were all empty threats, always. Until now."

Still confused, I ask him to clarify and he just shakes his head and tells me I'm better off not knowing the full extent of what Snow can do to me. I badger him for a while longer until he answers with a firm "no." "Ever, the idea of him carrying out the threats he made today will haunt me until the day I die. I'm not telling you, and you can pester me all you want but I love you too much to let you worry about his threats."

"Did he threaten to kill me, Daddy?" I ask.

"Drop it," he says harshly.

I purse my lips and turn the other way.

"Get some rest," is all he says before switching off the light. I fall asleep shortly after.

* * *

_Haymitch..._

Ever falls asleep quickly, but that doesn't mean I've stopped worrying. Throughout the night, she keeps sweating although her skin is cold. I move to the other side of the bed and sit up with my legs dangling off the end. I try sleeping, but I just end up lying awake all night. I'm too worried to fall asleep, and I'd never forgive myself if something happened to her while I slept.

With a sigh, I brush Ever's hair from her face and look down on her as she sleeps.

_It'll stop someday, princess. I promise._ Someday, all of the torture the Capitol puts her through will be in the past, and maybe she can live life as Ever Abernathy the person instead of Ever Abernathy the Capitol's slave. But this is wishful thinking.

From the moment you are crowned victor you are the Capitol's slave, and remain so until you die. Mentoring kids each year, pretending that they have a chance. Being forced into the victor sex trade, not having control of your own body. Move even one toe out of line and everyone you love dies. Fall asleep and the nightmares will eat you alive. Most require an escape like like morphling, kivitas, or alcohol.

This is the life of a victor, a hell from which there is no escape. It is into this hell that my little girl was born into, and then forced to kill in order the stay in the hell.

No words can express how angry I am about the abuses she suffers at the Capitol's hands. The mental and physical scars they leave on her infuriate me. They treat her like she isn't even a real person- more like sex with legs.

She's so much more than she's taken for. I'll bet none of those Capitol men know how wonderful she is. And truthfully, I'm okay with that. Nobody who hurts her like they do deserve to see how amazing she is. I kiss her cold forehead and whisper, "I love you. I'm so sorry."

In the middle of the night, she starts trashing around like she's having a nightmare, but after less than a minute, she's calm again. Still, I lean over to make sure she's still asleep. When I'm confident that she's still fast asleep, blissfully unaware of anything else, I finally relax. It's now been over four hours since she fell asleep, and I'm pretty sure that nothing will happen at this point.

_God I need a drink._

I quietly sneak out of Ever's room and walk downstairs for a drink. The one good thing about the training center? There's alcohol 24/7.

I'm about to take a sip of the bourbon when I hear the glass doors the the main hallway open. There's indistinct chatter, then the voice becomes clearer. "Son of a bitch! I'm going to fucking slit his throat and use his blood as...dammit! What _can _I use his blood for?"

_Well. Raewyn's obviously had a bad night. _"Care to share?" I ask as she walks in.

She screams, not expecting to see anybody here. "Where the fuck did you come from?"

"I don't think that discussion is very appropriate."

She rolls her eyes and sits down next to me. "Someone shoot me," she whines.

"Ex-husband drama?" I ask knowingly.

"How's you know?"

"By the way you were fuming a second ago? There's no other explanation." I offer her my drink and she downs the rest of it.

"Thanks," she says. "I needed that."

I let her have another minute or two to calm down before I pry further. "So. What did he want at 3:00 in the morning?"

Raewyn laughs maniacally and says, "3:00? Please. We were in a mediation meeting that was supposed to start at 5:00 and end at 7:00 at the lateest. He didn't show up until ten 'till seven, and then he made all of these ridiculous demands. The mediator left at ten, but we were still there until around midnight arguing. Then I had to run by the hospital because of my wrist."

She gestures to the brace on her wrist that I just now notice.

It's safe to say I'm pissed off. "What the hell did he do to you?"

"Uh, I think we were arguing about child custody when he called me a stupid bitch, to which I replied, 'go to hell you pigheaded monkey asslicker.' Then he got angry and twisted my wrist. I thought he majorly broke it, but it's just a hairline fracture. A little time in a brace and it'll be fine."

"I'm going to kill him. I really am."

She waves her good hand dismissively. "He's done worse. This scar," she says, pulling her blonde hair away from her right temple. "Is from when I apparently missed a spot on the window and he threw me into a mirror. A fractured wrist is nothing."

Raewyn taps her fingers on the table idly as a slightly awkward silence follows.

"What were you two fighting about all night?"

She scoffs and shakes her head. "He's so stupid. He wanted half of my victor money up until the time we divorced, which doesn't bother me much. I don't need all of it anyway. But then he wanted custody of all of the kids, and I'm talking full custody. I was like _hell _no_._ They don't want to be around him- in fact, they don't want anything to do with him. When I changed my last name after the divorce, even Zaylie, my _stepdaughter, _his biological daughter, wanted to change hers as well. I hate him. They hate him. I want him to leave. Me. Alone."

She pours more liquor into the empty glass and downs that glass as well. "I mean, son of a whore! It's bad enough that I sat there and put up with thirteen years of his bullshit and abuse just because his father is friends with Snow and William-" she pauses for a split second and bites her lip before continuing.

"He needs get over himself, and take a hint from the kids. I'm doing perfectly _fine_ raising my children without him. I'm happier. _They're_ happier. And that's what's important."

It isn't until she gently elbows me in the side that I realize I was nodding off.

"I'm really sorry he's being such an ass."

"It's not that I expected any different after I filed for divorce. I knew what I was getting into...and by the way, what are _you _doing downstairs at 3:00 in the morning?" She asks, laying her head down on the counter.

"Needed I drink," I say vaguely.

"At three in the morning?"

"It's...been a long day, to say the least. Snow has started Ever on those damned stimulant drugs, and I'm going to personally murder him if she gets addicted."

Raewyn shifts uncomfortably at the mention of the drugs. "That's terrible. You don't think she'll get addicted, do you?"

"I really hope not. Withdrawal is a bitch."

"Damn right it is," she mumbles.

"And you know that how?" I ask, puzzled.

"I used to have a, um, a 'dependency' on a few illicit...I'm a former drug addict." She admits hesitantly.

"Funny. I never pegged you as the druggie type."

"Nobody ever does," she sighs.

That is probably the most shocking thing I've ever heard her say. The drugs are even more surprising than hearing of her ex-husband's abuse and that the marriage was forced. Normally, I'd pass a harsh judgement about the drug addiction, but I really have no room to criticize, considering my attachment to a bottle of liquor.

I'm not sure if I should pry any further, and I almost kick myself when do anyway. "What were you on? Why?"

"Some guys I went to school with grew marijuana in their basement. Their dad was head peacekeeper, so they had the space and money. I was a social stoner, but wasn't addicted. Before Snow made me marry you-know-who, I _was_ forced into prostitution for a short a while. They had me take speed every once in a while so I could make it through every day. It didn't take long for me to get hooked. Luckily, the drug abuse didn't last long. I got married about four months after I won, and ended up pregnant with the twins a month or so later."

_I hope you didn't do drugs while you were pregnant. _"And you just stopped?"

"It wasn't easy, but with the extreme urge to start again, yeah. Anyway," she says, quickly trying to move on. "If she gets addicted to whatever they're giving her, I'll kick her ass for you."

I half-smile and say, "You and Finnick both."

* * *

_Ever..._

I wake up the next morning in my room, mostly unsure as to how I got there. I know that my father put me to bed and that we talked about Snow for a while, but I've no recollection of arriving here from my last...appointment. The pillows on the other side of the bed look like someone laid on them, so I'm thinking that my dad at least stayed until I fell asleep.

_That's awfully...paternal of him. _Maybe I should apologize for being so rude last night. Then again, does it really matter to him? I was high on drugs and he was more likely drunk than sober. If I know my father like I think I do, he'll be forgiving. With a sigh, I will myself to get out of bed and get dressed.

"It's 12:30?" I groan, looking at the digital clock. _What time did I get back here?_

~.*~.*

Finnick is the first to greet me when I walk into the control room. "Ever. Thank Aegir you're alright."

"What are you talking about?" I ask him.

"Haymitch told me what happened last night. Had me more worried than usual." He brings his lips to my ear and whispers, "Are you feeling well?"

"Finn, I'm fine." I assure him, a hint of irritation creeping into my voice.

Not caring that the other victors are all present, Finnick wraps his arms around me tightly and gently brushes his lips against mine. "I'm sorry. You know how protective I get of you."

I lean into his chest and nod my head. "Way overprotective I might add."

"You know it's because I love you so much," he says calmly.

"A-hem. Fish boy, I hope you haven't forgotten where you are," says my father from the wall from behind me.

I bite my lip. "Dad's right."

Luckily, the career victors aren't here yet aside from Finnick, so we get no snide remarks; just a few odd stares.

Finn rolls his eyes at the three people who stare. "It's not like I was making out with her."

"But I'm sure you do plenty of that elsewhere," says Johanna.

Finnick just laughs and winks at me and says, "Sure 'Anna. We do lots of making out."

I've never understood how Finnick can be such good friends with Johanna. Ever since Johanna won her Games, he'd been spending a lot of time hanging around her. She's okay for the most part. She stuck up for me in front of the entirety of District 7 on my Victory Tour, which leads me to believe she is really a nice person deep down, but she seems so...scary. I'm not sure if the tough exterior is just an act or if it's how she's coped with the Games and all of the special torture victors receive. Johanna Mason just seems like the complete opposite of Finnick. Then again, they do say that opposites attract.

Johanna says something else to Finnick that I don't quite hear, to which he replies by putting a finger to his lips to shush her.

"What'd she say?" I ask him.

"Nothing important," he says quickly. "Come on. Time to watch the excitement of the Games."

"Yay," I say monotonously.

Finnick sits down on the couch and I lay my head against his chest as he plays with my hair. It's hard to keep my eyes open, between the sound of Finnick's steady heartbeat and the fact that I'm barely awake as it is. "You can fall asleep, hon. I know what the day after five clients in one night is like."

"I have to stay awake," I protest.

He shakes his head and assures me that it'll be fine if I sleep. "You can sleep right here. I'll wake you up if anything exciting happens."

"Or if an Avox comes with an envelope," I say venomously.

Finnick frowns and adjusts himself so that I can be more comfortable. "Sleep, beautiful."

* * *

_Finnick..._

When Haymitch filled me in on the latest abuses that the Captiol had forced upon Ever, I was infuriated. No- I was murderous. I almost stood up and Marched down to Snow's mansion to personally assassinate him.

It's bad enough she had to grow up with a father haunted by the Games. Bad enough she had to live through them herself. Bad enough that she was forced into the victor sex trade at thirteen. Giving her stimulant drugs just so she can _pleasure _more people is disgusting. They've given them to all of us victors at some point in our post-victory servitude, I'd just hoped they'd hold out a while longer for her. But why should they? It's not like they've extended her any other courtesies based on her age so far, so why start now?

As she falls asleep in my arms, a grin slowly spreads across my face. She's truly peaceful when she sleeps. Sometimes the nightmares get in the way of her sleeping, but it's happening less and less often, which I take as a good sign.

Haymitch catches me staring at his daughter and frowns slightly. He's as miffed as I am about Ever's treatment, but I think he's also a little annoyed with me in general- and he has a million reasons for that.

Ever sleeps through Katniss and Rue's plotting to destroy to Career's food supply. She told me to wake her if anything interesting happened, but I figure she needs the rest. I tap Haymitch on the shoulder and gesture to Ever. "I'm going to take her to my room so she can sleep."

"I take it you're staying with her?" He asks, opening a bottle of liquor.

I nod, "Both of my tributes are dead. I don't need to be here."

Haymitch nods and casts a look of longing in Ever's direction. "I wish she could be normal again,"

"Me too," I sigh, lifting her into my arms. She stirs, but a soothing whisper from me keeps her asleep.

I carry her all the way to my room and fumble with the lock with her in my arms. As I gently and slowly lay her down on the bed, she opens her eyes, sleepily looks around, and whispers my name. I shake my head and press a finger to her lips and tell her to go back to sleep.

"How-?" She begins to ask before I interrupt her.

"I carried you here. You need your sleep." I grab the remote and turn the T.V. on, but mute it and then turn it away from her. "Damn Games. Required viewing."

Ever smiles and pats the place beside her, keeping her eyes closed the whole time. I take off my shirt and slide into bed beside her. She snuggles into my bare chest and sigh contentedly. With all of the craziness lately, I've forgotten how much I love just _snuggling _with my Ever. Truthfully, I like it better than the sex. Not that the sex isn't great, because it is. I've really missed being able to simply cuddle with her and nothing else.

The way that her head feels against my chest and the way her soft, delicate skin feels against mine reminds me so much of Annie. I sigh and pull Ever even closer and bury my face in her hair to try to chase away the guilty thoughts of Annie. It doesn't help- Ever and Annie have the same thick, silky, dark hair. The only difference is the way their hair smells. Ever smells like strawberries and raspberries and Annie always smells like flowers mixed with the salt of the sea.

I love both of these amazing, beautiful women; just in different ways. Sometimes, I feel very guilty about sleeping with Ever when I haven't even with Annie. But then I think about the alternative and decide that I can live with that guilt, but not the guilt of losing Ever at the hands of a brutal Capitol client.

"Finn," Ever whispers nearly inaudibly, waking after about another hour of sleep.

"Yes, hon?"

"Did I do something wrong?" She asks.

"What do you mean?"

"Was I not...doing good enough for them? Why did they stick all the needles in my arms?" The brokenness in her voice is heart shattering. It's all I can do to keep from crying for her.

I kiss the top of her head and tell her, "No, it's not that you did something wrong. It's that the people here are greedy. They always want more, more, more. One or two appointments a day simply isn't enough anymore. Could be worse, though."

"How?" She whines.

"You _could_ be going through it alone." I remind her, which makes her giggle.

Hearing her laughter, if only for a moment, reminds me of the carefree little girl I used to know. Hopefully, she's still in there somewhere.

"Where'd you get that bracelet you always wear?" I ask randomly.

Ever points to her wrist and blushes red like a tomato. "My boyfriend back home. He made it for me by hand."

"You have a boyfriend? You never told me that. He must have amazing hand-eye-coordination and precision."

Ever smiles, "He's amazing- smart, too. I like smart boys...anyway. I'm thinking about going to The Sparkly Tangerine for a cup of a tea or hot chocolate. Want to come with?"

"Sorry, wish I could. These Capitol women are needy," I sigh.

She nods, understanding completely. "I guess I'll go myself. See you later today, then?"

"You know where to find me," I say softly, kissing her temple."Have fun at the coffee place. Try not to dump scalding hot liquids on other victor kids this time, okay?"


	76. Announcement

Hey, everyone.

I'd like to apologize for being so late with updates. Writer's block is kicking my butt, my muse has taken a vacation. I guess I've been on hiatus. Now I'm announcing it.

I think I have a way to fix it, but you all might totally hate me. You know how I promised that next chapter would involve Ever being attacked by some knife-creeper? Well...I feel like that would be best written in a later chapter. I'd also like to basically ignore Katniss and Peeta- it's in the books. I feel like Katniss and Peeta should be a background storyline right now.

How much would you guys hate me if I saved the attack for later and 'ignored' Katniss and Peeta?

Also, once I get back to updating, there's going to be some change. I'd like to be consistent- meaning one or two a week on specific days _of _the week. I feel like it is the best way to keep updates coming, people reading consistently, reviewing consistently, and not loosing interest due to my lack of consistency.

How does that sound?


	77. House Of The Rising Sun

I listened to the Bob Dylan version of House of The Rising Sun and other Bob Dylan songs while I wrote this chapter. J

Prepare for a shocker chapter- soon to come. I am back from my hiatus- writer's block GONE!

This chapter is short- it's a lead up of what's to come. I will be updating this much more often!

* * *

**House of The Rising Sun**

* * *

_There is a house down in New Orleans they call the rising sun_

_And it's been the ruin of many a poor girl and me, oh God, I'm one_

_-House of the Rising Sun; an American folk song, various artists_

* * *

_Ever…_

With a heavy sigh, I mute the television as the Distrct 12 family interviews start. The final eight interviews are nothing but a somber reminder that eventually, seven sons and daughters, seven brothers and sisters, and seven best friends will have to die within the next few days.

I close my eyes and lean my head on Raewyn's shoulder and she absentmindedly plays with my hair. "Interviews bringing you down?" she inquires, propping her feet up on the velvet cushioned bench in front of us.

"Yeah," I admit pushing my brown curls behind my ears.

Raewyn nods and kisses my forehead and mumbles something like 'I figured.' I like Raewyn, I like her a lot. I'm not sure whether to consider her Daddy's girlfriend or his friend with benefits. They sure act like they're in a committed and exclusive relationship, but neither of them have actually come out and said anything to that affect, and it's not like I'm going to prod them for an answer. It's just that I don't want to get too attached to her and then have her not be a part of my life anymore. She's the closest thing to a mom I've ever had aside from Seeder, but even then Seeder took on a grandmotherly role. My mother died when I was too young to remember her and my aunts- my mother's brothers' wives and my mother's cousins- never took on any sort of maternal role in my life. Raewyn is the first woman to treat me the way she does and it feels…nice. Just _nice _to know that someone besides Finn and Daddy, besides men, care about me like that.

She says something, lost in my thoughts, I don't hear her. "I'm sorry?"

"I asked if you were okay," she repeats.

"Oh," I say slowly. "I'm okay it's just depressing, you know? Knowing that seven more people are going to die just so the Capitol can have their silly little victor of their sick little games. Two people from home are in the arena and only one can come home- assuming they don't die."

"I know how you feel sweetie. So do Finnick and your father. Any victor who's ever given a single rabbit dropping about their tributes does. It's tough."

"I just don't want to see the Mellarks or Everdeens faces when Katniss and Peeta don't make it home. I don't know what they look like yet, but as soon as I get home I'll be able to pick them out. They always are the ones that look the saddest. The dead kids' families, I mean. Always more sad than usual."

"You never know Ever. One of them might win- it's not entirely impossible. If you could do it then they can, right?"

I heave a sorrowful sigh. "I suppose; what time is it?"

"7:30, why?"

I gasp and swear- prostitution awaits. Raewyn nods somberly and reminds me to be careful. "Have fun," she says stonily.

"Will do."

I exit the room just as Katniss and Peeta's families friends and families are shown on the muted television screen. Peeta has two brothers and parents. Katniss has a mother and a little sister. It sucks that only one of them can come home. It sucks that if it comes down to it, my father and I will have to pick who lives and who dies. I wish there was something I could do to bring them both home, or at the very least tilt the odds in their favor.

I wish- and it hits me.

There _is _something I can do. Tonight's client perhaps has more influence over the Games than the tributes themselves.

~.*~.*~.*

Seneca Crane is by far my favorite Capitolite. He's young, only a little older than Finnick. His skin isn't dyed, he lacks antennae or animal tails, and his beard is actually kind of sexy in the mysterious stranger kind of way. He's never been overly forceful, and he isn't into anything weird. He's just into sex; regular, normal, fetish-free sex. It's not everyday that a victor courtesan is bought by a remotely normal human being and when we are it is a gift. It is these people that make all of the others easier to stomach. Just the knowledge that there are some normal people in the Capitol make the bad things seem much less horrific than they really are.

Seneca Crane is also head gamemaker. He also is convinced that I love him. Finnick has taught me well.

I smirk and run my fingers through Seneca's hair as I lie next to him using the sheets to cover myself. Our eyes meet and I playfully look away, earning a satisfied grin from him.

_Keep up the act until you're sure they're hooked, _Finnick's words echo in my head. _Even when they're hooked, don't stop. That's the last thing you want to do. You want to amp up the act ever so slightly before you request anything from them. Once they give you what you want, give them a little more of your act before you leave. Capitolites are all the same- they want an ego boost. It's like crack to them. They need it, they crave it. Give them the ego boost they so badly desire, and they'll do anything for you. An-y-thing._

That is just what I've done with Seneca. In a syrupy sweet voice I ask a favor of him. A favor that just might take these Games and turn them upside down.

* * *

Next chapter: Inspired in part by Secret by The Pierces

Can you guess what Ever's favor is? If you guess right you get a present :D


	78. Secrets

A/N:

I had intended to write a longer chapter, but I decided to stop it here. I have plans for the next chapter, longer, mapped out. I'm also deciding whether or not Ever and District 9 (Eri & Raewyn) will know about the rebellion, or be left in the dark. It'd make sense for Haymitch to want to protect Ever and Raewyn by keeping them out of it, but I'm still deciding.

A bit of fun stuff: (please note that I use words and phrases like 'typical *type* accent' and 'Bostonian' 'people from Wisconsin' 'Canadian' loosely, so don't feel stereotyped, okay?)

I've had many discussions with other fanfic authors on where Districts are located and what accents we imagine people from the Districts speaking with- since, there are different American accents. I'll jsut mention my thought for Districts 12, 4, 7, 3, and 9, since most of the characters in this fics I write about (canon and OC) are from one of those five. Since Panem is where North America once was, I kind of imagine THG characters with American and Canadian accents. I imagine District 4 being on the Gulf Coast, so in my head, Finnick talks like he's from the Gulf Coast- Louisiana to be specific. New Orleans-and-the-surrounding-areas/cajun sort of accent.

District 12 is in the Appalachian mountains, as stated in one of the books, so I imagine D12'ers with southern accents- people from the Seam having thicker accents, very stereotypical Southerner, and people from the town have more of a light drawl. When I write, Katniss and Gale and anyone else from the Seam has a heavy southern accent, and Haymitch (since he grew up in the Seam) has one when he's pissed off. I'm from North Carolina (born and thus far raised), and I really only have an accent when I'm mad. When Haymitch is normal-tempered, he and Ever have nice southern drawls.

For District 7, I imagine them in Canada since Canada kind of has the world monopoly on tree ownership. Gosh, I love Canada. So, Johanna, in my mind, is Canadian.

District 9, to me is located in New England, so somewhere around Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Connecticut (particularly Massachusets and states near there), so some kind of speak like Bostonians while others have a generic Northerner-type accent. Raewyn has a typical northerner accent for the most part, whereas Eri has a stereotypical Bostonian accent.

Lastly, District 3. I imagine Beetee and Wriress being from, yes, the Great Lakes area. To be specific- parts of Michigan, Wisconsin, Ontario, and Minnesota. So, somewhat of a Canadian-type accent there, but if you've ever heard someone from Wisconsin talk, it's more like that.

If anyone has any questions about where I iamgine districts or want more details on how I imagine characters speaking or other Districts I've not mentioned and such, feel free to PM and ask.

WARNING: Chapter contains naked Seneca Crane. Fangirling or mental trauma may occur.

* * *

Secrets

* * *

_Three can keep a secret if two of them are dead._

Benjamin Franklin

* * *

_Ever…_

These are the living tributes of the seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games; Cato and Clove of District 1. Lana of District 5. Thresh of District 11. Katniss and Peeta of District 12.

Only five out of twenty-four remain. I shiver and pull my arms into the sleeves of my green and black striped sweater. I feel a pang in my chest as I look at the names of the District 12 tributes on the mega-screen in the Capitol town square.

I came close to canceling my frozen yogurt plans with Eri just so I could watch the Games today. Not because I've suddenly learned to enjoy them, but because…well. Sleeping with the head Gamemaker opens many unspeakable doors. I keep hoping that the suggestion I made to Seneca goes over well with the rest of the Gamemakers- why wouldn't it? It was simply brilliant! Seneca could even say that it was all his idea; nobody would ever have to know that Ever Abernathy was the real mastermind.

I think back to our after-the-deed conversation from the night before.

"_Two victors, Ever? _Two?_" Seneca gasped._

"_Only if they're District partners of course."_

_He scratched his incredibly complex beard and shook his head. "Impossible."_

"_Why?" I said, winking at him. _

"_Game tradition. We-we've always had…it's supposed to be just one."_

"_So? Bend the rules. You're the man in charge, are you not?"_

"_Yes, but-"_

"_The Capitol loves Katniss and Peeta, right? I'm sure the feelings are mutual in the Districts. The star-crossed lovers of District 12 beat the odds and are both crowned victor- Seneca, this would be the pinnacle of your term as head Gamemaker!"_

_Seneca threw his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up, still lacking any sort of clothing. "Do you honestly think that the other Gamemakers will agree to that?"_

"_It doesn't matter. You're the head Gamemaker, Seneca. The others can think that they have some sort of control all that they want, but you and I both know who is really in charge here."_

_Seneca reached down and grabbed his boxer shorts. Standing up to put them on he said, "I can't believe I didn't think of this."_

"_Not a soul will ever have to know that you didn't," I pointed out, as I slipped my dress on over my bare body. "So will you be pitching the idea or what?"_

"_How could I not!"_

"_District 12 thanks you for this," I said._

_As I prepared to walk out the door, the twenty-eight year old's voice stopped me in my tracks. "Oh Ever, before you go. What makes you so sure that it will be _your _tributes that prevail?"_

"_Oh Seneca, I think you know what," I said coolly. _

"_I can still tilt the odds in the favor of another," he sneered. "Unless…"_

"_Unless what?" I queried innocently, pretending not to already know the answer._

_Seneca smirked and slipped his index fingers under the waistband of his boxers. "Unless you work overtime."_

"_Free of charge," I purred with a wink. _

At the memory I suddenly realize that I am no longer hunger for my cotton candy flavored frozen yogurt and pick it up and throw it in the trashcan behind me. I make myself sick.

"Let's go Eri," I say to my friend, absorbed in her book. She just shrugs and bookmarks her book with an unused napkin and follows me out.

The Capitol is full of jumbotron screens, there's at least one on every street corner in the main part of the city. Eri and I sit down on a bench in one of the parks near the city square. All around us, little children are playing Hunger Games with fake weapons. One group in particular draws my attention:

The group is made up of about twelve girls and boys, all with dyed hair, crazy makeup, some even with dyed skin. Blues, oranges, pinks, greens- colors that don't exist outside of the Capitol were sported by the children. One of the girls with lavender hair and a blood red heart dyed on the top looks to be about fifteen and appears to be the leader. She calls over a boy standing outside the group. She calls him by the name, Leporis, which reminds me of "leprosy." Leporis looks like he is about ten and by the looks of it, he is the older girl's little brother. My hunch is confirmed when he says, 'Coming, sister Pendula!'

The other children playing with Pendula and Leporis look like they are all between the ages of eight and fifteen, and they wield an array of wooden and plastic weapons designed to look like weapons one would find in the arena. Pendula hold a plastic trident in her right hand and Leporis clutches a wooden longsword. Others have toy axes, spears, maces, clubs, one little eight year old even has a pair of plastic syes.

"New game!" Pendula announces to the other children. "Let's make this year's Games-"

Pendula is interrupted by the girl with the syes. "Let's all pretend to be a victor, again!"

"Can we, can we?" The other children ask.

The teen seems to like that idea and thanks the girl, called Iberis, for the idea. "State your name and claim your victor, then we'll fight to the death! Remember, you die if someone behead you, cut off two of your limbs, stabs you in the neck, or in the brain."

All at once, the children claim their victors. A preteen boy named Vernon claims Finnick Odair first, much to the displeasure of other boys who wanted to be Finnick. I hear other names of typical Career victors be shouted out- Brutus claimed by Wolfram, Cashmere by Sequoia, Gloss by Leporis. A girl with red curls claims Eri because 'she's a ginger too.' Out of the corner of my eye I see Eri crack a small smile although I can't tell if it was the child or the book making her smile.

The victor claiming continues on and I even hear a teenage boy claim my father. "At the time of the 50th Games," He clarifies. "My dad said he was pretty epic in his Games. Not like you'd know know, huh?"

I wonder if anyone in the park recognizes the two young victor sitting just a few hundred yards away from the wannabe tributes.

"Flora, you didn't claim yours yet!" someone says.

"I know," says a teenage girl with neon green hair. "I was saving the best for last. I claim Ever Abernathy because she's so badass!"

My stomach lurches at Flora's words. Capitol children, imagining me and other victors back in the arena. They act as if it is some fun and wonderful thing, something to be taken as a joke, as a foolish game.

As if she read my mind Eri says, "That's what it is to them. The Hunger Games are just a game to Capitolites. It's not _their _friends, siblings, classmates, or neighbors in the arena, Ever. It's ours. It's us."

I nod and look down at my legs, all the while casting a sideward glance at the children playing Hunger Games- or in this case- Victor Games. The kid playing Cashmere dies first, followed by the boy playing Crayon of District 1. Turns out that Flora is quite vicious. Both boys "died" at her hands, also, Pendula. Pendula's claimed victor was Isis from District 9, a woman who won somewhere between Eri and Raewyn. District 9 women must be tough, because from Raewyn has told me, District 9 has the most victors outside Career district, and most of them are women.

The Victor Wannabe Games are now down to the final five; Haymitch played by Talon, Gloss played by Leporis, Ever played by Flora, Atlas played by Alto, and Erianwen played by- I kid you not- Ginger. The fallen and the spectators are cheering on their favorite kid, no matter which victor their portraying.

Flora kills Talon by beheading him with the trident that she stole from Pendula after killing her, but not before Talon kills Alto by jabbing him in the heart twice with his longsword. Leporis tries to sneak up on Ginger and kill her, but she's faster than he thinks. She cuts off his right left leg, but he still lands fatal blow with his axe, stolen from a victim of his, to her neck. Now, only Flora and Leporis are still standing. Ever and Gloss.

They stare each other down before advancing on each other like real tributes. They fiddle with their weapons and- "I can't watch any more of this."

Eri slams her book closed and stands up to leave. "You coming with me?"

"I'm done with this," I nod. "It's disgusting. I'd like to throw theminto the arena, see how they like playing Hunger Games, then. They wouldn't last a minute in there."

"Don't be so harsh Ever," warns my friend. "It is foolish to wish bad things upon others, lest they happen to you."

"What's that, a quote from Dickens?"

"No, just Raewyn."

~.*~.*~.*

_Finnick…_

I arrive late to today's rebel meeting. The core group consists of Haymitch, Plutarch, Mags, Seeder, Cecelia, Johanna, Beetee, and myself. The rest of us pass information along discreetly to the others, since it's too dangerous to all meet at once. Not even all of the core members can be together at once except for once a year. Typically, Mags and Plutarch meet only for a minute or two to plan meeting dates and times. Mags then relays that information to Haymitch and I separately, and I find Johanna. Haymitch, Johanna and I meet directly with Plutarch thereafter, and we pass along details to everyone else.

"Crane proposed something very interesting to the Gamemakers today," Plutarch says as soon as I sit down.

"And what would that be?" Johanna asks, not really caring and rolling her eyes.

"A rule change."

The three of us sit there in silence. _Rule change? About what?_

Plutarch grins and turns his back to us, facing the wall and clasping his hands behind his back. "He proposed that if two tributes from the same District remain alive at the final two they shall both be declared victors. He used the star crossed lovers of District 12 as reasoning for his proposal. Do you know how we voted?"

"You dolt," Haymitch says, smirking. "You unanimously voted yes. Yes because you know that the rule change cannot go through. There is always one victor- they're not going to bend the rules because to Distrct 12 tributes are pretending to be in love. When they're the final two and one must kill the other, it will be the most suspenseful showdown you've had in ages."

I smile at the older man's response, clever as always. Haymitch Abernathy may not seem like much, but he is the most intelligent man I know.

"Exactly," says Plutarch, smiling by the sound of his voice. "Do you know why _I _voted yes?"

"Because the inevitable showdown will add fuel to the rebellion fire," answers Haymitch instantly. "Why else?"

"Ruining his fun, Haymitch." Johanna teases, taking a sip of his whiskey.

"Well, well, well. I'm surprised, Plutarch. I always thought Crane was too stupid to come up with something that brilliantly simple. It's a genius idea, Plutarch. This rule change just might be the catalyst we need. That, and Rue's death. Acts of defiance are already happening in District 11. They'll be the first to join our side if this rebellion is successful."

Haymitch is right. We all know it. District 11 exploded into a localized rebellion upon Rue's death and Katniss's song and flowers. There have even been rumours of Districts 8 and 5 following a similar pattern. This rule change just might be the thing that sets that nail up to be hammered into the coffin.

Oh, Seneca. You've done more to help our cause than all of the rest of us combined, and you don't even know the cause exists.


	79. Maybe Tomorrow

I imagine Finnick with a Gulf Coast accent- Louisiana/New Orleans. I think it's sexy xD

I know that in the books, only Haymitch's mom, girlfriend, and brother were killed because of his force field stunt and that his father and sister were never mentioned…which is exactly why I made them up.

The PL- Panem Lira- is Panem's currency. Modern-day Turkey uses the lira, so I thought it'd be cool to use a different currency name than 'dollar' for Panem…but I'm not creative, so I stole from Turkey.

So, the song that the chapter title it named for. You should totally go listen to it, because it is amazing. Short chapter- only because what I have planned didn't fit nicely. I'm always 700 words in to the next chapter, and will get it to be nice and long. Shall I give a spoiler? Nah, I won't.

* * *

**Maybe Tomorrow**

* * *

_All of your sorrow_

_Maybe tomorrow_

_Will fade away in the air_

~ _Goldenhorse "Maybe Tomorrow"_

* * *

_Haymitch…_

Raewyn had asked me to watch Trinity and Zahra-Rose for a few minutes earlier today. She just wanted ten minutes to herself to have a cup of tea- why would I refuse? Trin's a calm baby and Zahra is just too darn cute. If I'm being honest with myself I miss having a child as young as Zahra and Trinity are around. Changing diapers and the early childhood temper tantrums were hell, but that was when Ever was the most carefree and innocent.

As ashamed as I am to admit it, one of the other reasons I miss having little-Ever around is the clinginess. As much as I missed her mom I liked being the one person that my daughter depended on- even though I did a horrible job at being her father. I'm the jerk who spent most of her life at the bottom of the bottle. I'm can't even remember most of her childhood. Only little bits and pieces and significant events come back to me. I can't even remember what her favorite color is, or her favorite flower, favorite animal, favorite season of the year.

Every year on her birthday I promise myself that this will be the year I quit. This'll be the year I quit for good. This'll be the year that I'll be the father my Ever deserves. So I quit, and I'm fine for a day or two after the withdrawals kick in. But then I have a nightmare, or I read Rose's old journal, or stare at an old picture of her for just a second too long and I'm back to the bottle. Then the same vicious cycle of drunkenness and sobriety continues for another year. Then two. Three. Until it becomes another fourteen.

_She's _fourteen _already?_

It's amazing what fourteen years can do to a life. Fourteen years ago today her mother was killed in the 60th Hunger Games. Fourteen years ago Ever was an infant who would only fall asleep if someone sang to her. Now she is a victor of the Hunger Games sold into prostitution and has inherited her aunt's mother's voices.

Before he and three other mine workers were whipped to death after being found guilty of black market trading my father would sing to my brother and sister and I. He taught the three of us all of the forbidden songs despite my mother's half-hearted protests. He'd take my sister and I into the woods not to hunt, but only to gather berries and other edible plants. Those were the times before Cray. It took unbridled bravery to cross the fence in the time of my childhood but it took men who were utterly fearless like Katniss's father was to risk hunting. Berries and edible vegetation you could get rid of quickly; but wild game? Punishment for even suspicion of hunting in those days was death.

While it was my father that taught us the songs it was my sister that brought their haunting significance to life. Ania was eleven years older than me, and until she died, my best friend. Even as a child I couldn't deny that my sister was strikingly beautiful. While the rest of my family possessed dark hair and grey eyes, her sandy blonde curls and bright green eyes set her apart from the rest of us. Ania was eleven years older than I, and almost a full nineteen older than our brother. The age difference in siblings would normally drive them apart, but age was what made her and I close. My mother was often sick and never had the energy to do much besides a little cooking and tidying up our little house, so in a way, Ania was like a mother to me. She would play games with me, walk me to and from school, tell me stories, and would do just about anything else I wanted her to. She also had a beautiful voice, and would sing to my mother when she was feeling particularly ill. Her voice would carry throughout the house and inevitably, I'd fall asleep to her singing as well.

My sister's aptitude for music is what I remember about her the most. Before her premature death, Ania would sit in front of the fireplace and hum while she washed and mended clothes for the town citizens. My father would ask her what she thought some of those songs meant and she would give explanations like- "Capitol authorities massacred orphaned children because they'd steal bread," or "It's about the start of the Great Rebellion," or "The fall of the previous civilization."

I wish she could have told me the meanings behind all of the songs and nursery rhymes before she died. Unfortunately, my sister had been selling herself to Peacekeepers since she was fifteen in addition to her washing and sewing and berry-trading to keep our family alive. The last peacekeeper she'd seen brutally beat her to death and tossed her body in a dirty Seam alleyway. He didn't steal her necklace, though. The only thing of value she ever owned that she always wore around her neck. That's how my father identified her, by the necklace that had been in my father's family since before the fall of the previous North American civilization. My sister's death was the single most traumatic experience of my childhood up until the fiftieth Games. Not even my father's execution was as hard for me as Ania's murder. She was twenty-one when she died; I was ten and our little brother was three. He never remembered her, and frankly, my parents pretended not to remember her as well.

That is my biggest fear about Ever- that one of those sick perverts does to her what one did to my sister. Ania's body was so disfigured that it was by chance that she could be identified. Had she not been wearing the necklace, there wouldn't of been a positive identification. My father's last memory of his daughter was a beaten, discarded corpse and the memory destroyed him. Every night a vision of Ever's beaten body pops into my head. Knowing that there is nothing I can do to protect her kills me. The fact that Finnick Odair can protect her more than I can just pisses me off.

When Ever was a little girl, she would scream and bury her face into my chest when the Games got really scary. I'd kiss her forehead and play with her hair and tell her that everything would be okay. _Daddy won't let anything bad happen to you, _I'd promise her. _You'll always be safe, sweetheart. _

That was a lie. Even then I knew that my little girl was destined for the arena. That stunt I pulled with the force field has long since been forgotten by everyone but Coriolanus Snow. As long as Snow remembers, I'll face the consequences. When Rose was reaped I knew it wasn't random. I knew that it had been rigged. My 'error' in the fiftieth Games cost me Ever's mom. Twelve years later, I'm sure Snow had intended it to cost me my daughter as well. But she- somehow- survived the arena.

Even so, a fresh hell awaited her after her victory. I knew that, of course. I knew that Snow wouldn't let her victory be the end of it. I knew that he'd find a way to continue to torture her.

I couldn't be more proud of my daughter if she'd single-handedly taken down the Capitol. The same girl that I once was able to hold in one arm has grown into a young lady that has suffered more pain and heartache than most people two or three times her age. Anyone but her would have given up by now. Ever's my daughter alright. She's been a fighter since the moment she was born.

I think that is the reason why I'm not a complete basket case with worry. Don't get me wrong; I worry about her every minute of the day. I have nightmares about her murder at the hands of one of those perverts almost every night and they nearly drive me insane. But Ever is a tough girl and can soldier on through just about anything life throws at her.

Sitting alone at the training center bar, I start to think that my little girl isn't so little anymore.

"There's a huge spider right next to you," says Finnick, taking a seat next to me at the bar. The Capitol attendant recognizes Finnick and hands him what I guess is his usual drink.

"Ah spidah raht next to me, ah see," I reply, mocking and exaggerating his accent, flicking the spider away. "You fish people talk funny."

"So do you coal miners. The 12 accent sounds sexier on Ever," retorts Odair. He shuts up when I shoot him a death glare for putting the words 'Ever' and 'sexy' in the same sentence in front of me.

I'm almost emotionless when I speak next. "How is Ever, anyway? You're around her more than I am these days."

Finnick looks at the wall when he responds. "She's the same as always, I suppose. A bit better, I think, ever since…"

The sentence doesn't need finishing. I know exactly what he means. I stare at the amber liquid in my glass and absentmindedly swirl it around. "Have you taught her how to control the men, yet?"

All he offers as an answer is, "She hasn't come back after her appointments with quite as many bruises as before. I guess that means it's working."

"Don't make me regret asking you to help her."

The younger man rakes his fingers through his hair and downs the rest of the glass. "You won't, Haymitch. I promise you that you won't. I don't make promises that I don't intend to keep when they involve the people I love."

I don't pretend to be surprised when I hear him say that he loves her, neither do I demand clarification. I don't need it; Finnick had always adored her, from the day they met on his victory tour. From then on Ever always looked forward to going to the Capitol to see 'her Finn.' It only took two years for her to start calling him 'big brother Finnick.' Chaff and I would often poke fun at Finnick and call him 'The Babysitter' because Ever was with him whenever she got the chance, but Finnick never minded. I think that he was just happy to have someone that wanted to hang out with him just because he was himself, not because of his sex appeal or legacy. Even with the recent changes in he and Ever's relationship, Ever sticks around him because to her, he is Finnick her friend, not _the_ Finnick Odair.

I clench my teeth and force a "Thank you."

"I'm…sorry?"

"Thank you," I repeat. "For helping her. It's not how I'd prefer it to be done, but it's obviously helping the bastards keep their hands off of her."

"You both know that I would do anything for her," he answers somberly.

"I know," I smirk. "Do the 67th Games ring a bell to you?"

The young man glares at me, but starts laughing at the memory. Ever was going through the I-want-to-be-a-fairy-princess-stage and had somehow gotten Finnick to play fairies with her. Long story short: Finnick Odair, colourful makeup, flower hairclips, and a skirt. Priceless.

~.*~.*~.*

_Ever…_

The Games are usually boring during the last few days. Now down the final six, the broadcasters mainly replay the final eight family interviews- sans the ones about the two dead tributes- with occasional looks into the arena. The Gamemakers surely have a trick up their sleeves coming.

Bored, I go to tap Eri on the shoulder to see if she would want to play a round of Never Have I Ever, but I hear something that stops me in my tracks. The voice of Claudius Templesmith blaring from the television.

'_Congratulations to the six of you that remain! I hope you're all enjoying this years' Games as much as our viewers at home are.' _

A short pause.

'_I have an announcement to make, an announcement that you will all find…amusing, to say the least. There will be a rule change for this year's Games, tributes, so listen very closely. Under the new rule, the Games can now have two victors- but wait, there's more! They can only be crowned if they both originate from the same District. Have a good day, and may the odds be ever in your favor!_

"Peeta!" shouts Katniss on the screen.

"Idiot!" I shout at her. _If Cato and Clove hear her, she's dead._

When nobody comes to kill her, Katniss and I both breathe sighs of relief. I might not like her, but it would be nice if she didn't die because of such a stupid mistake.

My father's face goes expressionless and he doesn't even look at Raewyn when he asks her, "Rae, do you remember how much sponsor money 12 had last you checked?"

Her answer is almost robotic. "Around 90,000 PL. The most expensive sponsor gift currently costs around 50,000."

"And the cheapest?"

"Maybe 2,000."

I'm pretty sure I hear him say something to the effect of 'I love you and your photographic memory,' though that may have just been what I was thinking in my head. This rule change…I don't like it. I was only suggesting it half-jokingly after I'd slept with Seneca, I never thought I'd go through. Now that it has? I don't even know.

I tap Finnick on the shoulder and tell him that I'm going for a walk. He offers to go with me, but I tell him that I want to go alone for some air.

~.*~.*~.*

I go to the same park where the children were playing Hunger Games yesterday. Aside from the memory, the park is a beautiful place, an oasis of green in the middle of a concrete city. I give a little shiver as the cool mountain air of the late afternoon blows. Though the autumn hasn't quite begun, it is always a little chillier in the Capitol than in 12.

Climate isn't the only drastic difference between 12 and the Capitol. It's amazing how such radically different places can be part of the same country. How thirteen such places can exist- the Capitol and 12 Districts- is even more outstanding. 12 is for coal miners, 4 is for fishing, 3 is technology, 11 for agriculture, 8 for textiles, 7 is lumber, 9 is…I don't know what District 9's industry is. It's sad that the only time people from around Panem can meet each other is for the Hunger Games, and that the only chance that District citizen have to befriend people from somewhere else is if they win the Hunger Games.

There must have been a time when travel was allowed, when people from all over a country- or the world! - could visit one another. Are there even other countries out there besides Panem? I know that there used to be, we just aren't supposed to talk about them anymore. I wonder what it would be like to live in those other places and speak those other languages. It must have been great to have grown up in that civilization. Those thoughts are forbidden, of course. I mentally scold myself for thinking like that and absentmindedly button up my green striped cardigan over my shirt.

I hear a clock strike five in the near-distance and grit my teeth. Five o'clock means that it will be six before I know it, and six o'clock means appointments. Tonight's schedule isn't too busy, just a thirty-year-old and a forty-something year old. Interestingly enough, Finnick and I are pretty sure that one of my patrons is the husband of one of his. It _is _a small world after all; Finnick sleeps with the Capitol women and I sleep with their husbands.


	80. Water & Stone

Kuruş is like cents is American money. Liras and kuruş instead of dollars and cents. If I was sticking totally true to the Turkish money system, I'd spell it kuruş, but I don't have a ş key on my computer, so occasionally, you may see is be spelled 'kurus.'

Haymitch's father's name (Gabhran) is pronounced GAHV-ruhn. It's Scottish-Gaelic. His mother's name (Elara) is ay-LAH-rah, also Gaelic. The surname Abernathy is Scottish, so I figured, "why not?"

* * *

**Water and Stone**

* * *

_We must decide what is to become of our lives_

_Decision should be made, not to fall in the shade_

_~Tenfold Rabbit "Balance of Water and Stone"_

* * *

_Ever…_

I hate Finnick Odair with a passion. Those rumors that he wakes up gorgeous in the morning are completely true. I don't think he's spent one second of his life unattractive, the lucky jerk. His only flaw is his morning breath, but everything else about him his perfection, albeit disheveled perfection. His messy, golden-brown hair is still fabulous, his tired green eyes still sparkle, and his body is still perfect. I hate him, and I tell him about every other morning as I wake up next to him, often tangled in his arms.

"I hate you too," he says in reply this morning. "You're such a bitch."

"I hope you get hit by a train."

"Get abducted, please."

"You're mean. Drown, Fish Boy."

"Choke, Coal Girl."

"I hope you get reaped again," I tell him.

"Jackass," he says, kissing my forehead.

I laugh and throw my arms around him in a big hug. "I'm kind of sad that the Games are almost over."

"And why is that?"

"We have to go home. You to 4 and me to 12…I won't see you for another year."

He frowns and puts his arms around me. "I think you'd fit in my suitcase. I mean, it'll be an uncomfortable train ride in the cargo compartment, but I can make it work."

I laugh at his joke, but am serious when I say, "You're what's been keeping me sane. I don't know where I'd be without you, Finn. I needed you this year."

He is silent for a while, and his voice is sad when he finally says, "I'm just glad I wasn't too late. You're one of the only good things left in my life. If anything worse than what's already happened were to…" He shakes his head and leaps out of bed to grab a shirt.

"Do you have many appointments today?"

"Just one," he says, pulling the shirt over his chest. "You?"

"I have one with a prospective sponsor for Katniss at around nine tonight."

He raises an eyebrow. "Where?"

"In the northern quarter of the city."

He purses his lips and snatches his room key off the dresser. "That's the worst part of the city, Ever. Be careful walking back at night. The northern quarter is where all of the miscreants of the Capitol are. The street thugs, the petty thieves, the rapists. I can meet you there, after my appointment I can hurry and walk you b-."

_You worry so much. _"I haven't gotten raped there yet, unless a middle-aged man paid for it."

"Don't joke like that." Finnick's eyelids hide his green eyes from my view. "Be. Careful. I can teach you how to protect yourself against the rich perverts who buy you, but there's nothing I can do to shield you from street criminals."

"Oh Finnick," I hug him and kiss his cheek, the stubble scratching my lips. "You worry too much."

"I have my reasons." He twirls a strand of my hair around his finger and smiles. "Just watch your back, promise?"

* * *

_Haymitch…_

I honestly can't remember the last time when I've had two tributes whom I thought could win make it this far. Two years ago, I didn't expect Ever to make it past the bloodbath, much less win. It's down to the final five, and both Katniss and Peeta are still alive. The dubious rule change is in effect, the pair has found each other, and all they have to do is act in love. On Peeta's part, "acting" isn't necessary, but Katniss's indifference is blatantly obvious to me.

Raewyn is next to me, keeping track of incoming sponsor money since Ever is…often busy. "Does the boy know that she's not interested?"

_So she sees her indifference as well. Wonderful. _"I hope not."

It's been nearly twelve hours since they found a cave to hide out in. Katniss had found him half-dead, disguised as a rock by the water. He had a fever and didn't seem to be getting any better. Lucky for him Katniss had the good sense to tend to his injuries to the best of her abilities and play up the romance some. To keep his mouth shut about how he's sure he's going to die, she kisses him. Last night I had sent them a parachute with food for Peeta. But he needs more than food; he needs medicine. By noontime, Peeta's leg had gotten worse: _blood poisoning_, I heard a Career mentor snicker.

I sneak a peek at Raewyn's notebook over her shoulder and find that the total amount of sponsor money is 250,000 PL. A loaf of bread will now cost around 700, the broth I sent was 4,000 Whoever supplies these gifts must make a killing each year. I wonder how many starving people could be fed for 4,000 liras. Hell, a starving child in District 12 could be fed a loaf of bread for three liras and twenty-five kuruş. When I was a child, a loaf of bread was even more expensive- at least eight liras. Sometimes, my family didn't even have that much. The fact that the price of bread in 12 has fallen by more than fifty percent since my childhood and yet, so many families can't afford it just flummoxes me. One would think that falling prices is a sign of better times, but really, the only thing in 12 that's improved is the strictness of the Peacekeepers. We're lucking out right now with old Cray. He may be a sick bastard that sleeps with teenage girls, but at least his Peacekeepers are…bearable.

700 liras would buy enough bread to feed hundreds of people back home, and that's the price of one loaf for a tribute. Disgusting, such a waste!

"I'm going to check on my kids. Better make sure Eri hasn't accidentally lost one in an oven again," Raewyn says, referring to her youngest two.

"An oven?"

"Yes, funny story actually. Remind me to tell you that one, it's even more strange than the cupboard story."

As she walks off, I can't help but to wonder what it would have been like if Ever had siblings. Oh, I doubt that I could have possibly managed with as many children as Rae has, but I could have dealt with one or two more. If it wasn't for Snow's vendetta against me, it might have ended up that way. I was never a big fan of children. I always _liked_ kids- to an extent- but wasn't particularly fond of them until after Ever came along. Ever would have liked having a brother or sister, as long as they weren't too close in age to her. My Ever wasn't a handful or anything, but she _loved _attention and as a small girl, wouldn't let anything get in the way of her and my near-constant undivided attention. _Daddy, watch this! Daddy, tell me a bedtime story! Play tea party with me? _The sad part is, I did get suckered into playing tea party with her and her stuffed animals a time or two. Or three. Or so many times I lost count. I never could resist her puppy dog face. The resistance of Abernathy men must be weak when it comes to our daughters, because my father was the same way with Ania.

"_Papa," Ania asked in her soft, musical voice. "Take me to the bakery to buy birthday cookies?"_

_My then-pregnant mother sat in her chair had knitting something for the baby and sighed. "Gabhran, the mines have been closed for weeks, _weeks. _You haven't received pay since the accident. We have no money, Ani dear."_

_Papa glared at his work boots that had been left untouched by the fireplace for nearly a month now. "Don't be ridiculous Alara, we have the money for birthday cookies. We always have money for Ania and Haymitch's birthday cookies, don't we, son?"_

"_Yes," I lied._

My father was a prideful man who liked to pretend that we weren't as bad off as we really were, even though there's no shame in poverty in 12.

With a sigh, I take a sip from my coffee, trying to make good on my deal with Katniss and Peeta to stay sober enough to help them. I've only been drunk twice since the start of the Games this year. For me, that's an accomplishment.

* * *

_Ever…_

Mr. Aleksy Ciak is younger than I expected him to be (thank heavens) and far less repulsive than I anticipated. Mr. Ciak is a twenty-four year old man with stormy grey eyes and a red beard in the style of Seneca Crane. It seems as if the young Gamemaker is a style icon, and many men like Mr. Ciak here are mimicking him. Imitation is the highest form of flattery, is it not?

I tie my hair in a ponytail and button my dress back up after my client has gotten his money's worth and leave with his promise of sponsoring my tributes. One of them had better win, so I can throw my selling my body in their faces when they piss me off. _Don't make me regret having sex with Capitol men for you. _I chuckle lightly at the thought.

The cool mountain air hits my bare shoulders and I shiver as I start down the street. The northern quarter _is _rather scary at night…there are far less street lights illuminating the streets than elsewhere in the city, and it's dirtier. I wish I had taken Finnick up on his offer to meet me and walk me back because I'm terrified. This prostitute needs her prostitute pal. I fiddle with my starfish bracelet and keep walking, keeping my head down in case there are any passersby of the unfriendly variety. As I turn the corner of Madison and Arcton streets, I hear someone clear their throat.

"Heller there, young lady."

I keep my head down and walk faster, only for a second man's hand to hit me square in the chest. I stop in my tracks and look up at the second man and try to locate the first.

"P-please leave me alone." I try to sidestep him but he stops me.

The two men cackle at me. "P-please leave me alone! Ya hear that, Cassius? She wants us to leave her alone!"

"That's nothing new," smirks Cassius. "Ain't you Ever Abernathy?"

The second man's interest is piqued. "You are, ain't you?"

Where's my hero when I need him? "Y-yes."

Cassius circles me like a vulture before placing his hands on my backside. "What's a young victor like you doing in this part of the city? Alone. At night."

I push him away and run but am stopped by the other man. My eyes sting with tears that threaten to spill over, tears that I refuse to let fall. Surely some of the skills Finnick taught me for handling violent clients in the bedroom can be applied in this situation. All that's required is thinking outside of the box, here. At least, that's what I want to believe, no matter how untrue it is.

"I'll bet she's one a them victor skanks, what do you think, Kev?"

Kev eyes at me like a hungry man eyes a steak. "Sure, Cass. Seems reasonable. A lot of them get made sluts, don't they, girlie?"

I want Finnick. I want Daddy. I want Chaff, or Raewyn, or Eri. The tears in my eyes begin to spill over but seem to pause when my eye catches something that just might help me. An empty liquor bottle lies just a few feet away. The men advance on me and wallop me with their fists over, and over, and over. I land a few good punches myself- I'm Haymitch Abernathy's daughter, of course I know how to punch. I run backward a few feet in order to create space between us. As Cassius and Kev advance on me a second time, I dive for the ground, screaming, and grab the bottle. I break it in the side of the concrete building beside me and hold it in front of me as a weapon.

Cassius takes a step back, but Kev merely shrugs and reaches into his pocket to grab his pocket knife. "Two can play at that game, girlie."

"Kev, we're thieves. Not victor killers. If we-"

"Take your tampon out of your vagina and relax, Cass. I'm not gonna kill her, just rough her up a bit."

I won't give him the chance. I lunge at him with my broken bottle and Cassius brings his fist down hard on the back of my head as Kev dodges my attack. I scream in an effort to wake any sleeping Capitolites in their apartments as I aim a kick as Cassius's nether regions- and succeed in making him fall to the ground, swearing and holding his crotch. He'll be down for a while, so I can focus in fighting off Kev. Still clutching the bottle in my left hand, I aim for his face and end up cutting him. He shouts obscenities at me and prepares to get me with his knife, but he's forgetting that I am a victor of The Hunger Games. I've killed people before, and I have no problem doing it again tonight.

Kev isn't expecting me to grab his knife arm by the wrist and knee him in the gut. His hand opens and he drop the knife onto the pavement. In one swift, desperate movement, I throw the broken bottle into the street and pick up the knife before Cassius or Kev could reach for it and stand up and point it at Kev.

"Move a muscle! I dare you!" I shout.

Kev throws up his arms in surrender. "Hey, chill baby, chill. Baby, calm down, we're just messin' witchya!"

"I'm not your _baby_." I hiss. "Run. Both of you! If I ever see your faces again, I'll kill you! I'll kill you, you know I will!"

I walk away before I even see if they run or not; I know they will.

~.*~.*~.*

_Finnick, Finnick, I need to tell Finnick. _My first instinct should probably be to tell my father, but it's not. Nothing against Daddy, it's just that he's so busy with Tribute Watch that it makes sense for me not to bother him with trivial matters such as this. Besides, he'd overreact. Well, Finn will overreact as well, but I can manipulate _his _reaction.

I find the room key in my purse and unlock the door. The first thing I notice is that Finnick isn't there, much to my distress. Instead, I see that there is a plush green monster with three cute little eyes, a smile, and two pointy teeth on my side and a piece of paper on the pillow.

_Ev,_

_Johanna invited me out for a few drinks, which really means, "I want to get wasted, but I need a babysitter so I don't do something too stupid." I bought chocolate and cream soda while I was screwing around the Capitol this morning with Johanna, it's all in the bottom drawer of the dresser. Sorry about being back late tonight, you can fall asleep before I get back if you're tired- just don't hog the whole bed, 'kay beautiful ;)_

_By the by, I found this toy store that has an insane selection of plush animals. I know you love them and found the little three-eyed monster there. Isn't he cute? _

_Love you to the whales and back,_

_Finn_

I find myself smiling like an idiot at his note. I mean _smiling _smiling. The little monster is practically begging for me to hug him, so I do. He's very cute; I'll have to thank Finnick for him when he gets back. I suddenly feel jealous that he's with Johanna instead of me.

Wait? _Jealous? _That's ridiculous. Finnick has tons of friends besides me, that fact has never made me jealous before. Johanna kind of intimidates me, but that doesn't mean it's bad that he's friends with her or anything. No matter how hard I try to reason myself out of it, I am _jealous_.

"Pull yourself together," I mumble. "You're acting like his girlfriend, not his _best_ friend."

I chalk my jealousy up to me just being a little irritated that he's out having fun on the _one _night that I need him here to listen. Besides, there's no way I can _actually _be jealous about him. No way, not unless I was actually falling for him, which is impossible, not to mention laughable, _not _to mention foolish.

"Idiot!" I laugh, cackling like a hyena and hugging my monster. Falling in love with Finnick Odair. That will never ever ever be happening. I have a boyfriend at home, anyway…sort of. After my laughing fit, I hop out of bed and dip into the bottom drawer soda and chocolate stash. I have the most amazing best friend in all of Panem. He brings me junk food.

In the two hours it takes for Finn to get back, I have time to strum my guitar a bit and work out some chords for a new song I'm writing, read six chapters of my book, practice making stupid faces in the mirror, and re-read the pillow note septillion times. When he finally staggers through the door, I am lying under the covers and prepared to fall asleep.

He's not wasted, but I can tell he's a little drunk when he slides into bed and says, "Heeeeeeeey, Ever."

"Your breath reeks. How much did you drink?" I ask, eyes closed.

"Not toooo too much. I mean, I'm drunk, I'm soooo drunk, but who gives a damn?"

"If you throw up on me, I'm going to castrate you."

Finn laughs at my threat. Funny thing is, I was being serious. "I'm not puke-your-guts out drunk, babe. I'm jussssssst. I-love-everybody-and-you-are-all-awesome drunk. Hey, where's drunk Brutus and Enobaria when you need them? We could have another drunk sing off."

"We'd win again," I chuckle into my pillow.

"Mmmhm, we would." He kicks off his shoes and socks and discards his shirt and jeans. "Soooo totally would."

"I have something to tell you," I say abruptly. "But I'll tell you in the morning."

"Ffffine. But if yooouu want-t-ted you could tell meh now. I sounnnd more drunk than I accctually am, promise."

I laugh at him and roll over so that we're face-to-face. "You're forgetting that my father is Haymitch Abernathy. I know shit-faced wasted when I see it. Go to sleep, I'll tell you in the morning while you're nursing that hangover."

He leans over and kisses my cheek. "Alright, hon. Goodnight,"

"Sleep tight,"

"Don't let the bed bugsss…do whatever the fuck they do, I don't fucking know. Fuck bed bugs, they can all go to hell. Where they belong. They belong in hell. Ah, hell with it. Sweet dreams babe, love you to…to whale country sea urchins and sea. Horse. Seaaaahorsie."

I shake my head at him and give him more blanket. "You're so drunk."

_Trust me, I know drunk when I see it. Thank you, Dad!_

~.*~.*~.*

"Ah, shit," groans Finnick the next morning. "I am never drinking again."

I grin and offer him a bottle of pain pills. Nothing that's a morphling-grade narcotic or anything, just common acetaminophen is all. "That's what everyone with a hangover says."

He tries to smile when he takes the bottle, but ends up frowning when he says, "Thanks."

"No problem." I reach over to the nightstand table and hand him the tiny paper cup filled with my concoction. "I have a pot of really strong coffee going, but knock this back first."

"What is it?" he asks, eyeing in with suspicion.

"It's called a prairie oyster. Raw egg, Worcestershire sauce, hot sauce, a dash of vinegar, and salt and pepper. It's going to taste disgusting, but it helps with my dad's hangovers."

He plugs his nose and knocks it back like it's a shot from a shot glass. "You make these for Haymitch at home?"

"At least once a week." I stand up and walk over to the bed and sit down. "Are you up for hearing the thing I said I had to tell you last night?"

"Of course I am," he looks like hell, but he never would deny me his ear.

"You were right at the northern quarter."

For that instant, his hangover was nonexistent. His eyes were wide with concern and he demanded I tell him more. I recount my run-in with street thugs Cassius and Kev in perfect detail. By the time I get to the end, my head is between my knees and I'm shaking with tears. _I promised myself I wouldn't cry, I promised…_

I continue to sob into his arms and try to explain away and apologize for my tears. He allows me to speak, but accepts no apology. "If anyone in this world has a right to cry, it's you." He kisses my face, wet with tears, and gives me a quick peck on the lips.

His head probably feels like it's about to explode, but he's decided that I am far more important than his self-inflicted inconvenience.

"You were so brave," he repeats. "You were so, so brave."

"D-don't let me be there alone again, F-Finn. Please don't."

"Never," he promises. "Never ever, Ever."

I giggle at his pun through my tears. "There you go with the pun again."

"It's cheering you up, isn't it?" he retorts.

"Yes."

"Good." He pulls me closer to him and plays with my hair as I lean against his chest. "I'll always be here to protect you, Ever. Always, I'm not going anywhere."

"Drunk, sober, or hungover?" I chuckle.

"Drunk, sober, or hungover," he agrees. "I love you, kid. You know that you're a thousand time more important than…than anything to me. You're my best friend, my sister-by-choice, my...well. You're my Ever."

I wipe the last of my tears from my eyes and thank him. "Thanks for being my Finnick."

"It's my pleasure, love. It's my pleasure."

* * *

There's a link to the picture of the monster plush Finnick gave Ever on my profile.

What did y'all think of the chapter? Please review! I love to know what you guys think. Thank you to everyone who had read and followed Ever's story up until this point. Chapter 80! YAY! Thank you all for the 117 favorites, 98 follows, and 1,133 reviews thus far! You're awesome!

Love y'all more than Finnick loves Ever!


	81. Lady Killer

The cup trick referred to in the chapter is the one from Pitch Perfect, along with the song- originally done by Lulu and The Lampshades. :)

Any misspellings for hungover Finnick's sentences are intentional. Finnick has a potty mouth this chapter, I apologize!

As I was typing Ever and Haymitch's awkward conversation, I was listening to my sister's starred list on Spotify…The Bad Touch by Bloodhound Gang came on. And of course, Pokerface and I Like You So Much Better When You're Naked decided to play was on while I wrote the bathroom scene. That is the last time I listen to my sister's Spotify while I write.

District 9 slang is similar to British (English, Scottish, Welsh) slang, and District 4 has some elements similar to Australian- for future reference.

This chapter contains more swearing than usual- fair warning. There's also naked Finnick….and an almost-sex scene…which isn't even graphic because I'm a bit of a prude and proud owner of a v-card, so…yeah. And violence, it's brutal.

I didn't intend for this chapter to be so dark. I wanted to have a happy chapter before the event of this chapter unfolded, but as I was writing they just...happened.

* * *

**Lady Killer**

_First time I shot her I shot her in the side _

_Hard to watch her suffer _

_But with the second shot she died _

_Delia's gone, one more round Delia's gone_

_~Johnny Cash "Delia's Gone"_

* * *

_Ever…_

Once I've stopped crying, I get up to wash my face and get dressed. Finnick is lying in bed with a hangover the size of Panem and is barely understandable when he teases me about doing my hair. "Mm, Ever's doing her hair. That means she's trying to impress someone…don't tell me. Not only do you have a boyfriend at home, but you have a Capitol man! Ev-er and who-ev-er sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

"That's so funny!" I say. "If you're seven."

"You ushly jus' half-ass your hair," he says, his speech slurring a tad. "Not thad id ever looks bad, you jus' usully don't give a fu- freak, shit, damn, whatever the fuck else."

"Eri and I have a girl date in the victors lounge."

"Turning lesbian on me now, are you?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I wink at him.

He starts laughing but it turns into a groan of pain. He curses under his breath and seizes a pillow from my side and slams it over his head. From under the pillow, comes swearing and moans of pain.

"You're such a baby." I tell him while I hairspray my side braid. His response is unintelligible. In fact, I'm almost positive that it was just another childish moan. I tiptoe around the room to his side of the bed and tilt my pillow up enough to see his face. "It's your own fault," I say kindly but condescendingly.

"Don't be so derisive," he whines.

"I'll be derisive if I want." My words would be taken harshly if it weren't for the gentleness of my tone of voice and the awkward side-hug I give. "I'm leaving my acetaminophen here for you. Assuming you can read, use the directions. No OD'ing, alright?"

"Sh-sure thing, hon. Have fun with Eri."

My friendship with Erianwen Tudor started with her victory last year, with the death of my childhood friend Ivy Hopeflame. Ivy's demise in the arena left me devastated emotionally, yet, I was able to find solace in the fact that the victor of the Games was Eri, Ivy's ally. Eri Tudor was eighteen at the time of her victory and has since turned nineteen. We officially met on her victory tour stop in District 12, where I invited her to join me for a walk through town.

We've only known each other for about half year, but because of shared experiences, consider the other a close friend. Her post-games kismet wasn't any different than mine: perpetual nightmares, survivor's guilt, prostitution. The men that she is sold to must be classier than those who buy me, because I never see her with extra makeup or dark sunglasses to ensconce bruises, or perhaps it's just that Eri was already experienced in sexual affairs before beginning her torture and had already dealt with men in the bedroom. Even so, we've been instrumental in helping each other cope with it; we sit in the victor's lounge and make fun of the Capitol men while discussing good books, or song lyrics that I'm working on, or about our lives back home and exchange words of encouragement. It's not that I'm not grateful for all that Finnick does for me, but it's so helpful to have another young girl going through the same hell right alongside me. There are some things that even _he _can't understand, and that is where Eri comes in.

"Ever!" chirps the redhead when she sees me.

I wave in greeting and hurry over to the victor's lounge and accept the warm cup of hot chocolate that she offers me. "How've you been these past few days?"

"Typical stuff," she answers. "Clients, babysitting Zahra-Rose and Trinity. I much prefer the babysitting to the whole being a hooker thing."

"Small children are much more enjoyable than non-con sex," I concede.

"What do you want to do today?" She asks me.

I smirk. "Other than you?"

We share a laugh and turn our attention to the television for a short while. Last night my father sent Katniss a parachute containing a tiny glass bottle of sleep syrup. Astonishingly, she got the hint. A few drops of the liquid drug in his soup and he was passed out for the rest of the night. With Peeta dead to the world Katniss was able to sneak away to the feast at the cornucopia, where she now waits and evaluates the danger. The ginger tribute from District 5- '_I'm routing for her', says Eri- _ is way ahead of the rest and scurries for the bag marked with a 5 and disappears before anyone could have the chance to attack her.

Eri loses interest as soon as soon as District 5 is off-screen and says, "Do you know the cup trick song?"

"I know _of _it, but I can't do it. A bunch of kids from school do it, but I never could learn. There's a song from before the Dark Days that goes with it that I can sing, but I don't know how to tap it out. Do you know how to play it with the cup?"

She shakes her head. "I wish. There isn't much to do back home, so almost everyone in 9 knows how. Before I stopped going to school my friends had contests at lunchtime to see who could do it the fastest. Raewyn can do it like a pro; I was at her house when she was teaching Starlyn and Zahra. Apparently the cup trick is still a popular lunch pastime, and they were whining about how their friends could do it. She makes it look so easy!"

_Raewyn makes everything look easy. _"We should ask her to teach us later!"

"We should," she agrees as some of her hot chocolate spills onto her sweater. "That's just fan-bloody-tastic! Fuckin' ballocks."

I let out a soft cry of surprise and grab a fistful of napkins and help dab her. "It should come out," I say.

She waves her hand dismissively, "It doesn't matter, and I've had this sweater for ages. It's about time to get a new wardrobe anyway. I really _do _like this sweater…shit. Oh well, some starving kid would love it, stain and everything."

"Do you donate all of your old clothes to people in 9?"

"Of course," Eri nods. "I donate everything even if it has a few holes or stains in it. Being a victor's daughter, you've never experienced poverty, but when I was a starving kid from an impecunious family I didn't care if donated clothes had stains or a few holes. I donate to the school and the staff distributes."

"There's no organized donation system in 12. I have friends and a boyfriend who are part of the poorest class in the District and they handle it. It makes me really sad to see people my age running around in threadbare clothes, starving."

"Chyeah," she says through closed teeth. "Try _being _one of those kids."

I half-smile and cast a sideward glance at the television, which I had previously muted. Katniss is back in the cave with a cut on her forehead, indicating that Peeta now has whatever lifesaving item my father has decided to give him. _Good, _I turn my attention back to Eri. "Where'd you go for the hot chocolate?"

"Mother of the devils, Ever! You really do love The Sparkly Tangerine if you can tell that it wasn't from there."

"It's similar, but not the same."

Eri smiles "Tulip Gardens. It's mostly a tea-and-coffee-cakes type place, but the hot chocolate is good." She points to the television. "Looks like what's-her-name is passed out."

On screen, Katniss is lying on the cave floor passed out. "Well, we can rule out drunkenness!"

She bursts into hysterical laughter, knowing of my grievances against the tribute. It isn't that I hate Katniss, because I don't _hate _her per se, I just don't like her all that much and find her rude, brooding, combatant, and a smidge bitchy. If I hated her, I wouldn't be hoping she wins. But I am. "If she wins you two will constantly be at each other's throats!"

"Possibly," I admit. "Though I'd like to try and help her deal with the post-arena trauma. I think I'll start out by being kind to her unless she provokes me into behaving otherwise."

"Sounds like the right thing to do."

"Well, I mean. I put myself in her shoes and thought about it. If I was her, I'd not want a fellow victor to be a complete bitch to me just because we rubbed each other the wrong way. I was very fortunate to have Daddy be my mentor, because even if I was ever bitchy to him he wouldn't hold it against me. I figure I should give Katniss that privilege of unconditional compassion, albeit temporarily."

I pause and sip my hot chocolate and say with a raised eyebrow, "I'm not a saint."

"I'm sure _every_one know that," Eri winks.

"Shut up!" I exclaim, attempting to mask my giggling.

Eri yawns and adjusts herself and lies down, putting her head in my lap. "Deal with it."

"I don't care," I shrug. "Friend and pillow are synonyms."

* * *

_Finnick…_

"Fucking sun. Mean as cat's piss, it is. The hell told you to shine today?"

I groan and reach for the remote to the scene-changing window in hopes of finding a pitch black setting. To my displeasure, the closest thing to pitch black that I'm able to find is a starry sky; close enough, close e-damn-nough. My head feels like it's going to explode. Or implode. Implosion seems much more painful.

How much did I drink last night? I remember having maybe a glass whiskey at the first bar we went to, a few beers at the second, and lost count at eleven vodka shots at the club. Did I make out with anyone? Did I take my clothes off and dance on tables again? Holy hell. Did I come back last night and try to have drunk sex with Ever? Aegir. _I _was supposed to just get tipsy at worst and babysit Johanna and hold her hair while she puked up her guts outside. It would seem that I'm the one that needed babysitting.

"Hmmm, someone put me out of my misery," I whine like an alcoholic toddler. "I'm so hungover. So. Fucking. Hungover." _Just don't throw up. Whatever you do, don't. _Vomiting would require me to get out of bed, and that is something that I am simply not willing to do at the moment.

I loathe myself with every fiber of my being. Every. Last. Atom. "I am never drinking agaaaain."

_Poor Ever._ She has seen her father drunk nearly every day of her life and has told me how she spent her childhood virtually babysitting him. It's not that I haven't been drunk around her before, (because I have. Oh my lord I have.) but I've never let her see me as drunk as I was last night. Frankly, it seems horribly rude to subject her to that; she deals with it enough from her dad and she sure as hell doesn't need it from me.

Good job, Finnick. Now you feel even worse. I slam my hand on the nightstand table and blindly feel around until Ever's pill bottle rattles. Sweet relief! I swallow four and wait for the painkillers to work.

* * *

_Haymitch…_

This morning is slow in the arena. The family interviews of the remaining tributes are being rerun for the billionth time. With District 2 tribute Clove being dead, it is now down to my two, Chaff's boy, Cato from 2, and the ginger from 5. Audiences and Gamemakers will be growing anxious for a winner soon, meaning that the 74th Hunger Games are coming to an end. The sooner I can get my daughter away from this hellhole the better. District 12 isn't the Garden of Eden or anything, but it's better than having the middle-aged wolves sniffing after her.

Halfway through Cato's father's spiel about how great his son's performance in the arena has been, I hear the steady click of high heeled shoes against the tile flooring. I ignore the footsteps, assuming it's just Johanna or Enobaria, until I hear Chaff say my daughter's name.

"Where's your fisherman?" Chaff teases. He notices before I do that for once, Ever is lacking her companion.

Ever blushes and takes a seat next to me. Blushing is never a good sign. If she's actually developing a little crush on that fish bastard, I'll skin him alive. "Probably still in bed sleeping off a massive hangover," Ever says. "He was so drunk last night."

_Ever + Drunk Finnick + Drunk Finnick's room + Drunk Finnick's bed =…_Hell no! Hell freaking no!

"Ever Elizabeth-"

"Calm yourself, parental unit!" Ever rolls her eyes. "Nobody took their clothes off. He did make for some excellent bedtime entertainment, though. If I came up with half the stuff he said, I'd be a comedic genius. I wrote down my favorites to show him when the hangover's gone."

"Heartless, you are heartless." Out of habit I kiss her forehead and play with her hair.

She smiles and leans her head against my shoulder. "I'm so tired," she complains.

Poor baby. She was probably up all night with Capitol men doing heaven knows what. "You can go and sleep, sweetheart. You don't have to be here."

"I want to spend a little time with you. I have to be somewhere at seven o'clock, anyway. Not much time to get a decent nap in, eh?"

"Then take a short nap here."

I slide off my jacket and hand it to her. Ever's a tall girl, but she's tiny enough to use it like a blanket if she curls up. I move over a few inches and grab one of the decorative throw pillows and prop it up against my left leg for her to lay her head on. She lies down and makes herself comfortable, mumbling thanks. Her eyes close as soon as her head hits the pillow, but another twenty minutes or so passes before she falls asleep.

_I'm sorry, sweet girl. I'm so sorry._

The most painful thing for me, as a father, is being forced to watch her suffer and not having the ability to help her. When bad things happened to her, I always took care of her. When she was afraid of the dark, I let her sleep with me until she was brave enough to use a nightlight. When she was bullied at school, I taught her how to deal with it without getting down. When Rose died, I _could have_ dumped Ever on one of her mother's cousins or older brother. Raphael Fairchild actually tried several times to convince Rose that I was an unfit parent while she was still alive, and was hell-bent on getting Rose to take her away from me. The controlling jackass would have been more than happy to take Ever, had I decided to say "Screw this whole single dad thing!" But I didn't. Despite my alcoholism, I took care of my little princess after her mom's death, and she's managed to grow into a beautiful young lady.

Up until she was forced into the world's oldest profession, there was always something I could do to fix the bad and the scary. Now it isn't so simple. I can't solve this problem with a starfish-shaped nightlight, or with clever comebacks. I'm so useless to her, and I hate it. Some man slut from Four is more necessary for her survival than her dad is, for hell's sake!

It kills me knowing that my daughter is having sex with a man nearly ten years her senior on a regular basis. I hate myself for asking him to do that for her. On the other hand, I'd hate myself even more if the rape and beatings had continued on with the same degree of brutality. Simply looking at Ever was so hard to do that first year, the year of the 73rd Games. She was always covered in bruises, cuts, and scratches. At least this year, she's learned to manipulate the men and trick them into less violent activities.

I know how lucky I am to still have her. She could have died as an infant due to her 'just too early' birth. Rose could have listened to her brother and took her away from me. Snow could have arranged for an "accident" to happen. She should have been killed in the arena. Any one of those perverts could have beaten her to death by now. Ever is one of those people who shouldn't be alive. She's an Abernathy, all right. She comes from a long line of individuals that were just too damn determined to stay alive to die before they had to. It's only fitting that Ever be the same.

"D-daddy?" Ever yawns after not even an hour of sleep.

"It's only four-thirty, sweetheart. Ever, just go back to sleep."

"No," she moans. "I have to check on Finnick, anyway."

"No you don't. Honey, he's a grown-ass man."

"Regardless, I have to go and get ready to whore around tonight."

_Oh, right. That. _"Hey, be careful. Be careful tonight, all right?"

"I always am," she assures me.

"And…you use protection, right?"

She wrinkles her face in disgust. "Daddy, you're not seriously talking to be about safe sex, are you?"

I clear my throat and say with a bit more authority, "Answer the question."

Ever mumbles something under her breath and stares at her feet before saying, "I make the Capitol perverts use…condoms."

That's reassuring. "Are you the one that supplies them? Ever, you can never leave birth control to the man. How do you think _you_ happened?"

"Ew! Dad, that's gross! Please don't tell I was conceived on the bathroom counter or anything messed up like that."

I smirk, despite the seriousness of the rest of the conversation. "Close, we were pretty sure it was the kitchen counter."

"Ew! You had sex in our kitchen? I'm never eating food from our house again. I, uh, to answer your question, yes. I'm, erm, too embarrassed to buy them myself, so, uh, F-Finn does. He always makes sure I have a bunch in my purse." She stares down at her feet again.

"And with Finnick? You're being safe with him, aren't you?"

She answers too quickly with a 'yes.' "I'll see you tomorrow, all right Daddy?"

"Yeah," I nod, pulling her into a hug. "I miss you, sweetheart. Don't get hurt tonight, okay? I love you."

"I love you too, Daddy." Ever stands on her tiptoes and gives me a quick peck on the cheek. "Don't forget to practice safe sex."

"Smartass," I roll my eyes at her.

* * *

_Ever…_

So. Not only did I get a lecture about safe sex, but I found out that I was probably conceived on the kitchen counter. This is exactly why fathers should never talk to their daughters about safe sex, especially not if the father in question is Haymitch Abernathy. He probably doesn't even take his own advice, anyway. I love my father to the moon and back, but he really does suck at having parent-like conversations.

I take the elevator up to the fourth floor. I'm half-expecting Finnick to be asleep when I slip into the room, but find the bed empty and hear the shower running. That means that he's at least feeling well enough to get up and take a shower. Dumbass forgot his towel, though. I sigh and snatch the dry towel off of the bed and head for the bathroom. The water has stopped since I've walked into the room. He's probably standing in the shower feeling like a naked idiot for forgetting his towel.

I open the door. "Hey, you forgot- oh! You're out of the shower…and naked." My hand claps itself over my mouth, muffling my apology. I'm not sure if I should look away or not- it's nothing I haven't seen before.

"I didn't hear you come in," he flashes me a playful smile. Maybe he's drunk again.

"You seem to be feeling better."

"Yes. That hangover was a bitch."

Unsure what to say next, I hold the towel out to him. "You, uh, you um, forgot. Uh, this."

Finn runs his fingers through his soaked hair and licks his lower lip, and teases me. "You nervous?"

I answer with an adamant no. "Just put the towel on. You're, um, dripping water. Dry off."

"Yeah hon, whatever you say." He winks and wraps the towel around his waist.

"I just wasn't expecting you to be stark naked," I explain, blushing pink. "I thought you'd still be in the-"

He's taken a step closer to me and cupped the side of my face in his palm, rough from the years of a fisherman's work, and tilted my head up so that I'm staring into his green eyes. My sentence is cut off by his lips pressing against mine. I begin to push him off of me, but stop and end up letting him kiss me. I don't taste alcohol on his tongue, eliminating the 'he's drunk' theory; not that I'd mind either way. He pulls me close to him, deepening the kiss and says something in his trademark seductive purr that I don't quite register, so I just nod and assume it was a yes or no question. My breathing all but stops as his fingers move over the buttons of my shirt, opening each with a single, skillful motion.

"Buttons make things so much more complicated," he mutters, sliding it off my shoulders and tossing it aside. He bites his inner cheek in brief contemplation before he lifts me up and places me on the counter. The look in his eyes is all too familiar, yet, it's less frightening and more welcoming when it's in his eyes rather than a Capitol man's. He's met with no resistance in slipping off my jeans. He groans in delighted surprise when I yank the cotton towel from around his waist.

_This isn't like the other times, _the voice in my head says. _This is entirely hormone-driven. Need driven. _The funny thing about it is that I don't care.

"We really shouldn't. God, but I don't care." he half-chuckles, crushing his lips to mine the second time.

I tangle my fingers in his soft, damp hair as his lips move fiercely, hungrily against mine and he unhooks my bra. He leaves a trail of kisses down the side of my face until he settles at my neck, eliciting a small noise of approval. Finnick's hands slide to my hips to remove the last piece of cloth covering me, but he takes his damn sweet time doing it.

"Hurry up," I hiss. "Damn tease."

"Oh, like you're any better," he growls back, standing up straight and leaning forward. His hands brush against my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

"Finn," I murmur breathlessly. "Why are we…?"

"I don't know," he says, his mouth just inches from mine. "Do you want to stop?"

"No," I admit, a little ashamed of my sudden _need _for physical satisfaction.

"You probably should, unless you two are into the whole voyeurism thing."

Finnick's eyes widen and he turns so that I'm hidden from sight. "Johanna! How the fuck did you get in here?"

Johanna Mason tiptoes around Finnick and gathers my clothes from the floor and hands them to me. "I picked the lock. The original plan was to obnoxiously interrupt your hangover recovery, but it seems you've recovered rather…nicely."

My face is probably red as a tomato. I'm so…embarrassed. Is it all right to hate myself? Because quite honestly, I do. While Finnick hisses insults at Johanna and Johanna makes jokes about 'Pedo Finn,' I rush to put my clothes on and sneak the towel to Finn.

"I wouldn't bother," Johanna smirks. "Nothing I haven't had sex with. Right, Finn?"

"I didn't even hear you come in, you bitch."

Johanna throws back her head and cackles. "Not in front of the child, Finnick! Watch your language!"

It takes all I have in me to ask her a small favor. "Don't tell my dad."

Finnick backs me up and places a hand protectively on my shoulder. "Don't you _dare_ tell Haymitch was you saw!"

"Of course I won't. He'd murder you, and then who would I have to make fun of?" Johanna winks and prances out of the room.

~.*~.*~.*

An hour of dead silence followed the bathroom incident. He didn't say a thing to me, I said nothing to him. Quite possibly, he didn't even look at me. We each prepared for our separate clients with the sounds of dresser drawers sliding and belt buckles jangling being the only sounds filling the room. I didn't even get a 'bless you,' when I sneezed. I'd look over at him and expect at least a side glance, but got nothing. At least twice I started to say his name, but found that while I could move my lips, no sound would come out.

"Hey," he says gruffly after the silent hour. "Forget about what happened in there. That was a mistake and it meant nothing."

"Sure didn't seem like _nothing_," I hiss.

"Sit down over there."

I look up from my compact mirror with a scowl. "What's the magic word?"

"Please."

Satisfied, I walk over to the foot of the bed and sit where he pointed. "Yes?"

He finishes tying his tie and drops to his knees in front of me. He tries to hold my hand, but I yank my hand away and push against his chest so that he stumbles backwards. "Ever," he cries helplessly. "Baby, listen-"

"Unless you have a damn good explanation, I don't want to hear it."

He buries his face in his hands and groans pitifully. "Hon, please just listen. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Fine," I spit. "Go ahead."

When he reaches for my hand this time, I don't pull away. I let him take my hand in his while he talks. "I understand if you hate me. What I did was…entirely uncalled for. I've started to objectify you in the way that so many others have."

My jaw drops and I stare at him, awestruck in the most horrifying way. "So you used me? You've been using me for _sex?_ You have countless women lining up to sleep with you, why me?"

"No, baby girl, it's not like that. It's not like that at all. Please, just-" Finnick shakes his head as his voice breaks. "I don't know how to put it into words."

"Just say 'Ever, I used you for my own satisfaction. Sorry for tricking you into thinking otherwise, have a nice life.'"

"But that not it!" he exclaims. "Ever, please. Just…I don't know how to say it."

I scoff. "Then just say it. Don't waste your time sounding flowery and eloquent, just say it."

He waits a minutes and wipes the tears from his shining eyes. "Ever, I was never using you. At least, I never realized that I was. You're too young to really understand, which makes this so much more difficult to explain, but I'll try." He reaches under the bed and pulls out a bottle of whiskey. "I need a drink," he mumbles.

"Granted."

After a short pause he says, "You know how sex with the Capitol people is nothing but sex, right?"

"Yeah."

Seeming relieved that I understand that part, he continues in a more relaxed fashion. "Well. That's what it's like for me- sex is just sex. There's nothing romantic, emotional, or special about it at all. At least there wasn't until all of this happened. Ever, with those other women, it's just a job. It's just a way to keep whatever people I still have at home alive and nothing more. But with you, Ever, it was special. For the first time, I wasn't just going through the motions and seducing another middle-aged housewife. For the first time, I was with someone I cared about."

I glare daggers. "And you don't think I felt the same? Finn, you're the first person who didn't force me, who didn't pin me down and _rape _me. You always waited for the green light. I liked it, I always enjoyed every second of it."

"You did?" he says, relieved. "Good. I always worried I was being too smooth, too…much like a professional manwhore."

"That's what you are."

He takes a large sip of whiskey. "But that's not how I wanted to make you feel. Ever, you're not- nor were you ever- like any of those people who pay to be with me. I wanted you to always feel special, loved. Even when I had to teach you to maneuver some of the more unsavory situations, I wanted you to be comfortable."

"You did," I say. "Until today. Today, I just feel used."

"And rightly so, baby. You have every right in the world to feel like that right now." After another sip from the bottle, he squeezes my hand tighter and continues his explanation. "I grew attached to you, I grew attached to being intimate with you. I didn't realize that I was using you until…until now."

It's my turn to wipe tears away. "You…you admit you used me."

"Yes," he laments. "Yes, yes, yes. I admit to using you for sexual gratification."

I pull my hand from his and slap him across the face. "You pervert! You're disgusting!" To think that I was actually starting to (think that I was about to) fall for him. To think that I _trusted him. _That my father trusted him.

"I deserved that," he says robotically.

_Crack! _My hand connects with his face a second time and I shout through my tears. "You sure as hell did! I trusted you, Finn! I…I let you. You ever had to make me. I _let _you!"

"Don't be like that," he begs. "You know I love you, hon. You know that I'd do anything for you."

I raise an eyebrow. "_For _me, or _to _me?"

"Ever," he sobs. "You know that I love you. You know that I could never hurt you intentionally."

"Screw you," I try to hide the shakiness in my voice. "I h-ha-hate you Finn. I hate you s-so much! Br-Brutus is right; you're a freak, a child-lover, a…pedophile. You should be arrested for what you did."

The tortured look in his eyes almost makes me regret what I said. Almost being the key word. He chokes on his tears and finally lets them flow freely. The fact that he's on his knees begging for forgiveness is flattering, but flattery will get him nowhere now.

"I'm going to be late for my date with prostitution." I grab my purse and stand up.

"North Quarter again?"

"Yeah, but don't bother waiting around to walk me back. I've killed people before; I'll just kill the next street thug that tries to fuck with me. Like you."

"Don't leave like this," he begs. "Just-"

"Shut up!" I shout, slamming the door shut behind me. When I'm in the elevator, I allow myself to break down completely.

* * *

_Finnick…_

_I hate you, Finn. You're a pedophile. Freak!_

Her words echo in my head long after she's gone. I hold on tightly to one of the pillows from her side and let the tears flow onto it. I must seem like a monster to her. I must seem like the most disgusting thing on the face of the planet. If only I knew how to tell her right, if only I were better with words.

She probably wouldn't have known how to react if I'd told her everything I wanted to. I couldn't exactly tell her that I wish I could just give my heart to her. In another life, she must have been mine. It's a shame that the one who loves her the most is the one who deserves her the least.

What right do I have to her, anyway?

Out of all the men on this earth I am the one the least worthy of her time of day, much less her affection, her love, or her heart. Ever Abernathy is like the sun at midnight to me. Who knew that Haymitch the drunk could be capable of creating and raising something to perfect, so loving, so beautiful. Every aspect of her being makes me love her more each day. I love her musical talent, that cute little snort she does if you get her to laugh hard enough, her sleepy voice in the morning, her spontaneous public dancing, her brown hair and eyes, her smile. No matter what, she'll always be my Ever.

If I could down the whole whiskey bottle, I would have by now. There will be plenty of time for drinking myself into oblivion later tonight, after my client. Right now, all I can do is try to pretend that there isn't a giant hole in my heart and that oil isn't burning in my chest.

I scream her name at the wall and throw the pillow at the lamp across the room, causing it to topple off of the table. I'd already punched and kicked a few holes in the wall, damn lucky that I didn't break a wrist or something. I hate myself so much. I almost wish Johanna would tell Haymitch what she saw so he'd just kill me already.

_Death_ is even something that I don't deserve. Being dead would mean that I don't have to suffer anymore. I deserve to suffer for how I hurt her. I broke her little heart into a million and one pieces and stomped on the pieces.

_Good job, Finnick. You just lost the best thing in your life, _jeers the voice in my head.

If only I explained it better. If only I were a wordsmith. Maybe I'd still have her, still be her Finnick, her best friend.

I can't just leave her alone in the North Quarter tonight. I crushed her heart, I at least owe her protection. I straighten my tie and hurry to get tonight's client over with.

* * *

_Ever…_

It's funny how one heart-breaking realization can make someone's night even worse. It's even funnier that my last conversation with Finnick made me forget all of his rules and tricks of the trade. Funnier still is that tonight's client is none other than William Hemsworth. The funniest thing is that my forgetfulness causes the same pattern of violence to start up again.

When I just sat there and stared blankly at the wall when he ordered me to undress, he grabbed me by the hair and threw me into it. He called me a whore, a bitch, a little skank- every name in the book. But I did nothing. I didn't protest when he raped me and I barely screamed when he beat me afterward. I've become a zombie, little more than a machine. Have your way with me, I suppose.

William reminds me that he bought me for as long as he so desires and that he would gladly repeat the act. Sick bastard. Some people really shouldn't be allowed to be alive and he's one of them. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of my fear. I didn't beg him to stop when he violated me, I didn't scream when he bashed my head into the wall, I barely gasped when he landed punches to my stomach, and my scream was rather quiet when he hit me over the head with a pan. I sure as hell won't show him my fear at the suggestion of a repeat.

How my dad's girl could have stayed married to this bastard for over a decade is beyond me. I make a mental note to ask her sometime, suddenly gaining a new appreciation and sense of hero worship for her.

He lights a cigarette toward the end of the evening

"Perhaps they'll rent you out to me once more before your stay in the Capitol is over. Do try to put up a fight next time, for it is much more fun when they fight back. My ex-wife was quite the fighter. I must admit, your level of fierceness nearly matches hers. Quite the turn on, to be honest."

"Go to hell," I snap, zipping up my little navy blue jacket. "It's where you belong!"

_Crack! _His palm collides with my left cheek. "Funny," he blows smoke in my face. "Clever. You can go now. You'll regret that comment next time."

"Like hell I will!"

I slam the door to his North Quarter condo shut. How many places does he have? Since I've been seeing him, we've met in three different condos, two houses, four hotels…I'm really curious as to how bored the scumbag gets.

Unlike the other night, I'm more prepared to walk the streets of the North Quarter. Armed with a pocket knife, I speedwalk down the streets and constantly look every which way. The quickest route to the center of the Capitol is through the North Quarter plaza. I'm only a few blocks away. I can do this. Alone.

_That's right, Ever. You don't need a fisherman to be your bodyguard, _cheers a voice in my head.

_Yes you do, _argues another. _Like it or not, the fisherman is your lifeline._

_He's a sick, twisted, monster!_

_You know he loves you. Give him another chance to explain._

_He just wanted the sex, he never loved you, you were never his friend._

Lovely, I can't even trust my conscience to help me out because apparently, I have two and they don't get along. Eff my life. Eff it.

_Tsk, tsk, tsk._

I jump at the sound of the tongue clicks. I'm two blocks away from the plaza. Just two blocks…if I run maybe I can escape. Trouble is, I can't see the tongue clicker anywhere.

"Ever, Ever, Ever."

My blood runs cold as I identify the voice. Kev, from the other night. It's Kev.

"'Ey Cass! I found the girlie from the other night. Bring out the resta the boys."

Cassius steps out from the shadows with three other men in tow. One boy with neon green hair looks no older than I, whereas the oldest of the men, with bleached white hair, appears to be in his 30s. There doesn't seem to be any getting out of this mess.

Kev whips out a pocket knife and smirks, seeing that there are no empty bottles on the ground, but his face pales for just a moment when he sees me pull out a knife of my own, slightly larger than his. Neon and Bleach have his back, however, and pull out their own knives. Cassius and the man with tri-colored fire hair take a few steps back until they can get a better feel for what is about to transpire. It seems as if the men are both wanting me to fight and hoping that I don't at the same time.

I stand there, frozen. Kev lunges forward with his knife first. I don't hesitate to defend myself and take his knife arm and twist it so hard that he lets out a noise of pain and stab him in the gut. Neon lunges forward before I can pull my knife out of Kev and get a good slash in. Cassius and Flames run around the rest of us and attack me from behind, sans knives. They tackle me to the ground and Bleach and Neon help them drag me into the alleyway. I scream at the top of my lungs in hopes of a good Samaritan coming to the rescue, but in all reality, nobody will come. Kev might be dying right now. I hope I stabbed him somewhere fatally, oh lord, I hope.

The four men take their turns stabbing and kicking me and hitting me over the head with various objects- Neon wields a wooden plank, Bleach uses his foot, Cassius and Flames have something metal. All I know is that it hurts like hell, and that I'm bleeding from my heard, my arm, and probably other locations. The beating hurts so bad, I just want someone to put me out of my misery.

I scream and scream and scream, but nobody comes. Has the compassion is the Capitolite's hearts become so far gone that a screaming girl is ignored? Despicable.

"You! Little! Bitch! You think you got the best of ol' Kev and Cass here, 'eh?" Flames smirks.

"Pick on someone your own size!" roars a voice new to these men, but a voice that I am both relieved and horrified to hear.

"'Ey, is that Finnick Odair?" Bleach asks his companions.

"Damn right it is!" Finnick growls, venom dripping from his voice. He lets out a fierce, animalistic cry as he lunges for Bleach and snaps his neck with a sickening _crack!_ "Who's next? I'll kill every last one of y'all, don't you think for no second that I won't!"

I almost smile at his District 4 dialect coming through. He only talks like that when he's really mad, or making fun of his and his Districtmates' accents. The pain is just too much to allow a smile.

"Yeah right," scoffs Neon. "Won his Games nine years ago, probably rusty!"

"Wanna bet? C'mon, I dare y'all!"

Neon charges for the victor next. He tries to slash him with him knife, but Finn grabs him by the throat and lifts him into the air and throw him onto a dumpster. Flames and Cassius are quick to jump him to aid their pal, but three street thugs are no match for a Career victor. Finnick kicks Flames so hard in the chest that I'm almost sure that I hear several ribs crack.

My eyes are getting heavy. It's hard to breath. The pain, the blood loss, the stress- it's all too much. I try to shout Finnick's name, but a hoarse whisper is all I can manage. The struggle between he and the thugs continues, but my vision begins to blur so that I can't see what's going on. I hear voices, voices forming…words? No, screams. Silence.

The silence feels like it lasts a lifetime.

"Ever!"

"F-Finn?"

"Oh, no! Aegir, please no! No," he howls at the sky.

"H-hospital?" I offer weakly.

Maybe he's crying, maybe he's not. "I'll get you there, hon. I will. You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be just fine."

"D-did you kill those guys?"

"They would have killed you."

Breathing is now a chore. "Why were you h-here?"

He picks me up and walks with me in his arms, getting blood and dirt all over his nice clothes. "I owed you at least this. I came to follow you back since you didn't want me walking you. Not that I blame you, after…after what you thought…I did. I heard someone screaming and the closer I got, the more it sounded like you. Ever, I've heard you scream in terror before. I'd recognize it anywhere."

_Stay awake_, I order myself. "Finnick, I'm sorry. I don't h-h-hate you. There must be a b-better explnshnnn for gdatrq eyg ha-"

His voice wavers as if he wants to cry, but refuses to. "Ever, don't speak. You're…you're starting not to say actual words. Never apologize for that again, never. This is all my fault, everything is entirely my fault. I'm fixing it, though. I'll get you taken care of, don't worry. The hospital is close to here- look at that sign. It's only three streets away. I love you, baby girl. You're gonna be okay. Finnick's got you."

I try to speak, but gibberish comes out. My chest seems as if it is caving in. I can't see anything, but I feel like my eyes are open. I _know _my eyes are open.

My lifelong friend's voice breaks through some of the confusion. "I see it, hon. I see the hospital. Just hang in there a minute longer, you can do it."

"Finn," I mouth.

"Y-yes, Ever?"

_Come on Ever, just one sentence. You can pass out after one last sentence! _"Th-thanks for saving me. I l-love you so much, best fff-fffriend."

"I promised you I'd always be there to protect you. Drunk, sober, or hungover, remember?"

"Y-yeah."

He says something else, but I don't hear it. I'm numb, my vision is gone, my hearing is all but nonexistent. Are we in the hospital yet? Maybe we are, but heck if I know.

Shouting. I can't make out any distinct words, but shouting is the last thing I sense before the pain, bloodloss, and trauma finally take over.


	82. Kingdom Come

Whew! Last chapter was 19 pages in Microsoft word! This one was only 15.

So, on my profile, there's a link to an Everlast Spotify playlist. There's between 200-300 song on it so far xD I got bored. Very bored.

I was tempted to end the chapter at the first half of Ever's POV, (the part before the ~.*~.*~.*), on the cliffhanger. But I did not. You are very welcome.

The 74th Games will be ending within the next few chapters, then it's back to 12! This chapter is uneventful, really. But next chapter will be one of the last before D12. The Games will most likely end next chapter, and there will be one more post-game pre-home chapter, then home in 12.

Hope everyone catches the rebellion hints in this chapter. There will be much more mention in the coming chapters.

* * *

**Kingdom Come**

* * *

_Don't you fret, my dear_

_It'll all be over soon_

_I'll be waiting here for you_

_-The Civil Wars "Kingdom Come"_

* * *

_Finnick…_

I remember entering the hospital and shouting at any doctor or nurse in earshot that we needed a doctor, that there was an emergency. I remember her finally passing out from the pain and the blood loss just as a group of hospital staff came to take her. Everything after I handed her over to the doctors is a blur. All I can think of while I frantically scrub her blood off of my face and arms is that I'm going to have to tell Haymitch as soon as possible, which leaves me at an impasse. I won't leave the hospital until I get an update.

I swear and unbutton the top four buttons of my shirt, now stained crimson, still wet with fresh blood. Good Aegir, it's Ever's blood, it's all hers. I catch a whiff of the pungent metallic smell and run into the nearest stall to vomit. As I cough up the contents of my stomach, my ribs, where the flame-haired man managed to land a good kick or two, finally begins to string. I swear in between heaves and curse his soul.

I don't regret killing those men. The lowlifes deserved worse than death. Consider it a favor. Those guys would have killed her if I hadn't gotten there in time. If I hadn't taken advantage of her like that earlier today, she never would have been walking alone. This whole mess is my fault; hurting her, the attack, the hospital. I could never forgive myself if the unthinkable happens.

_Don't think like that, she'll be just fine._

When I'm able to stand again, I throw the bloody shirt into the trashcan, but keep the undershirt. At least it's a little less bloody than the other.

Funny how time only drags on when you're waiting for something, but on a normal day, flies. I'm the only one in the waiting room aside from a receptionist with a cotton candy blue wig. Much to my pleasure, she ignores me and minds her own business, giving me plenty of time to pity myself like an angsty teenager.

I rest my elbows on my knees and learn forward in an attempt to relax. No such luck.

"Family of Ever Abernathy?" a voices drones.

"That's me." I leap from my chair and scan the room until I find the source of the voice, a man a few inches shorter than I with tar black hair, clad in a doctor's lab coat over his surgical garb. A peek at his I.D. badge tells me his name is Dr. Curatus Amisi.

Dr. Amisi rolls his eyes and attempts to be sassy with his monotone. "There are two problems with that, Mr. Odair. You are clearly too young to be her father and your surname isn't Abernathy."

"Just tell me if she's all right!" I demand, grabbing the doctor by the arm.

The Capitol snob is stronger than I anticipated and throws my arm off with ease. "I'm sorry; I can only release that information to Haymitch Abernathy. Seeing as you not he..."

"To hell with your policies!" I roar, feeling particularly murderous. "Haymitch Abernathy doesn't even know that his daughter is here."

"When did you plan on telling me, you son of a bitch?"

I cry out in fear and make a quarter turn. "Haymitch-" I begin before stopping myself. There is nothing I can say to him to diminish his rage.

Haymitch isn't an intimidating man by nature, but when his daughter is concerned he is terrifying. His stony grey eyes fixate on me as his footsteps bring him closer, and closer, and closer, until his hands find my neck. "Where is she?"

His grip on my neck tightens and only makes it ten times harder to form a sentence. "Ask. Him."

I gasp for air when he finally releases my neck. I'm zoned out as Dr. Amisis talks to Haymitch. A hand roughly grabs me by the hair and pulls me back to my feet. The older man half-leads half-drags me down the hall.

"How did you-"

His voice is no less dangerous and laden with hate that it was when he first spoke."-know Ever was here? Simple, someone here thought it was odd that you brought her here. The staff wanted to double check that I was notified. Good thing they did."

"I-I was going to get somebody to notify you, I really w-"

He grabs me by the neck and slams me into a wall, with bloodlust and loathing in his eyes. "You're going to tell me what happened. You're going to tell me exactly what happened or I'll slit your throat right here, right now."

My years of Career training mean nothing when I look into his unforgiving eyes. My heart rate increases, even long after he's removed his hand from my neck. I agree to tell him what happened, so long as he promised to let me see her, to which he replied, _You can wait outside the room and see her later tonight._

Fair enough.

I can't exactly tell him everything, or that it is entirely my fault. I fabricate parts of the story, telling him that I was late leaving for the North Quarter, which is why she was walking there alone in the first place. To the best of my ability, I describe what I saw of the attack in vivid detail while only briefly covering my killing the men. Haymitch winces and reminds me that I'm going to get hell for that, but I don't care.

"I'll suffer the consequences."

* * *

_Haymitch…_

"_It appears that your daughter sustained multiple stab wounds from her attackers. She bled from them profusely; by the time Mr. Odair arrived here, she was already approaching stage 3 hypovolemic shock. Her assailants also beat her, there are multiple bruises forming on her head and other parts of her body. We stitched up her stab wounds. Her spleen had ruptured at some point following the attack and had to have an emergency splenectomy._

_The surgery was very touch-and-go throughout the process, sir. Her heart stopped twice on the table but my team was able to use the defibrillator to revive her. In the end, the surgery was a success. She's resting in room 605, still under the effects of the anesthesia. Your daughter may have also sustained broken or cracked ribs, but we can't be sure until she's well enough to be x-rayed. I'd like her alert for the x-ray process. _

_Her head injuries were brutal, Mr. Abernathy. We have her under a constant flow of Dilaudid and a mild sleep-inducing drug will be administered starting at around five A.M. The most important thing for her right now is rest. She's lucky to be alive. Mr. Odair got her here just in time. Due to the blood loss, we have her hooked up to an IV giving her blood. Her blood type is O-, which means that while she can donate blood to anybody, she can only receive O-. The hospital has a dwindling supply, be we spared some for her. As a result of the head injuries, she may have mild to severe memory loss. This is normal with head trauma patients, so don't panic if she wakes with amnesia. If the amnesia is more than temporary, I will know. We allowed the Capitol Peacekeeping Force to run a sexual assault kit on her due to the brutality of the crime, but most of the evidence would have already been long gone after surgery. Assuming there are no further complications, she should make a full recovery. You may see her, but she will be unresponsive until at least tomorrow morning._

Dr. Amisi's explanation of what happened to my daughter makes my blood boil, even long after Finnick and I left him. Once on the sixth floor, Finnick finds the visitor's lounge and takes a seat in one of the chairs so I can find the room alone. The number 605 runs through my head until I find the door and slip into the room as quietly as possible. It takes time for my eyes to adjust to the near complete darkness of the room. My heart drops when I hear the constant beeping of machines and see the IV poles filling her system with a stranger's blood and the pain killer, with a third IV pole by her bedside yet to be used. It must be for the sleep aid.

The simple act of putting one foot in front of the other suddenly becomes an impossible task. I'm almost too afraid of the sad reality to move any closer. I close my eyes and force myself forward until I hear that the beeping very near. Slowly, I open my eyes and walk the few extra feet to the chair beside the bed and take a seat. I don't take my eyes off of her, though I'd much rather. The bruises have already formed, the pallor of her skin is corpse-like, and even under the influence of anesthesia her mouth is frozen in an expression of pain. Her hand is like an ice block when I take it in mine.

Seeing her so helpless after such a horrific assault breaks my heart. What's worse is that I can't even be here for her. In a few hours, I will have to put all of my focus back into helping some else's kids and leave my own to suffer alone.

"Hey sweetheart," I manage to say. "I hope you don't start making a habit of this whole hospital thing. Hospitals are far too depressing for my taste. You know me, princess. Haymitch Abernathy, king of unicorns and optimism. The epitome of happiness, eh?"

Silence, as expected.

"Lame joke. Almost a bit Chaff-esque, I'd say." I lean foreward and kiss her forehead, relieved to feel warmth rather than ice. "You're going to be just fine, I promise. You're going to wake up tomorrow confused and probably in a hell ton of pain, but it'll be over soon. You've been a fighter since day one."

That couldn't be any truer. Ever was born prematurely at thirty-four weeks. By Capitol standards, a baby at thirty-four weeks faces the 'minor' complications of underdeveloped lungs, nonexistent immune systems, and the inability to gain weight right away, babies born in 12 face much more dire odds. The odds were very much against her. She cried near constantly because she could hardly breathe, because she was hungry but couldn't use the suck-swallow reflex well, and because she needed to sleep but just couldn't. All we could do was wrap her in blankets and cuddle with her by the fireplace to keep her warm. Somehow, she made it. Somehow, we got to look forward to our little girl growing up.

At least, Ihad that privilege. Rose didn't.

For hours, I sit there and stare at the ghostly replica of my sweet little girl. The door clicks open and in walks Finnick Odair. I shoot him a half-assed glare as he closes the door.

"Oh," he gasps. "It's been four hours. I fell asleep for a while and assumed you'd be gone by now."

I shake my head. "I'm not leaving her side until I have to."

"Which is shortly," he points out. "You have tributes to attend to."

If my name were Hannah instead of Haymitch, I'd burst into tears. But that's not most men I know handle their anger, frustration, and heartbreak. My fists squeeze shut until I can't stand it anymore. "I should be here, you know. _Here. _Not _there._ I should be here with my kid, not there worrying about somebody else's."

"You know they'll send a Peacekeeper."

I rake my fingers through my hair and clench my teeth. "Precisely why I'm so pissed off. This damn mentoring job is keeping me away from her when she needs me the most. She's going to be so lost when she wakes up, Finnick. She won't know where she is, she won't know why there's a huge scar on her tummy from the splenectomy, and she won't know why she had needles in her arms or machines around her. Hell, she probably doesn't even know what a spleen is, much less what a splenectomy is. She'll wake up and see the stitches and wonder how they got there, she'll be so scared, and will need someone to hold her and tell her that everything is going to be all right, even though it's total lie. Ever deserves to have that when she wakes up and I can't even give it to her!"

Finnick crosses the room and sits in the chair on the opposite side, holding her other hand. "Let me do it. I'll take care of her when she wakes up, Haymitch. It's my fault she's here in the first place. Let me fix it."

I wish I had a drink right now. "Atonement; how virtuous of you."

"You're not the only person in this room who needs her to be okay, Haymitch." The pain in his eyes is so real, so evident, that not even I can be cold to him for a second longer.

I agree to him being here, but tell him I'll send someone to check on her tomorrow so he doesn't have to leave. "Someone needs to be here when she wakes. I don't want her being alone."

"Send Seeder," he begs. "Or Rae. Those two are harmless. Chaff will skin me alive."

"I might skin you myself," I mumble.

Finnick smiles ever so slightly and runs his fingers though Ever's messy, tangly hair. "I tried, Haymitch. I tried so hard to keep her safe. I taught her to manipulate men, to keep them from hurting her life they did, but she still found a way to get herself beat up."

"Don't beat yourself up too badly," I sigh. "You're the reason she wasn't murdered in that alley."

"The doctor said she'd be okay?"

I nod. "The possibility of a few cracked ribs and mild temporary amnesia, but nothing predicted for the long-term."

"Except mental trauma."

_Yeah, that. _"They, um…they ran a rape kit on her. I know that she saw a man tonight, but do you know if the men in the alley-" I choke on my words. The thought of it is just horrible to finish. The idea of her attackers raping her on top of what I already know is too horrible to accept as a possibility.

"No," Finnick says adamantly. "I promise you, they did not."

That's a relief.

"Are you going to be able to sneak over here tomorrow?"

Certain that the hospital isn't bugged, I shake my head and say no. "Mentoring and a meeting with some of the crowd. Cecelia has some updates for Plutarch and he wants me in on it."

Finnick nods in understanding. "I still say we should get you-know-who in. District 9 is very vital, it's one of the largest and most populous Districts. Not to mention how smart she is, she'd prove to be useful. Raew-"

"Not you, too. I'm trying to keep her and Ever safe by keeping them in the dark. If I find out that any of you let either of them know anything, I'll murder whoever squealed."

"I don't like keeping secrets from Ever," Finnick sighs.

"Oh well," I snap. "I've been doing it for years and so can you."

His green eyes make a semi-circular motion to show his annoyance and he folds his arms over his chest. He declares that he's going to stay here all night and all day tomorrow since I can't. "If she can't have you, then I'm the next best thing."

I don't tell him that I'm sure my daughter would rather wake up to him by her side than me; I want to at least pretend that I'm worth a damn as her father.

The following few hours pass in silence until I hear Finnick's light snoring. Folded up on the shelf in the far corner of the room are two extra blankets. I grab one and place it over Finnick and make a mental note to send clean clothes for him tomorrow. The idea of him wearing my kid's blood isn't all too appealing. I lean over and kiss Ever's forehead just before I leave to monitor the Games.

_Son of a gun, I want a drink._

* * *

_Finnick…._

It isn't until the shuffling of feet wakes me that I even realize I had fallen asleep. There are three nurses in the room, each tending to one of the IVs, machines, or some other hospital paraphernalia attached to her.

The female nurse with pale skin and an eggplant purple braid gasps and blushes red when she sees I'm awake. Her male coworkers roll their eyes and carry on with their job while the girl sits down to keep from fainting. It's rude of me, but I always chuckle inside when someone reacts this way upon seeing me. Being Panem's resident sex symbol can be entertaining sometimes.

"Chessa, stop fangirling and get to work," chides the man with orange contacts. His name badge reads Sofor Kanella.

I wink at Chessa, making her even more unstable when she stands and reaches for the IV pole with the now empty blood bag. Sofor snaps at her and reminds her that 'you never remove a blood bag unless there's a replacement right beside you.' The other man, whose name badge I can only make out the letters –ZILS in his last name hands her a blood bag marked O-.

"Are you sure that's compatible with her blood type?" I ask the nurses in a panic. There are different blood types and depending on someone's type, they can only receive certain types.

"O- is the universal donor, genius," grumbles -Zils.

_Right, right. _I back off and let the men and skittish girl do their jobs.

"If you weren't a victor you'd be thrown out of her," Sofor says primly. "Visiting hours are only for a certain time, but Dr. Amisi said that this is a special case. Still. You victors think you're above rules."

"That's because we are," I quip.

Sofor glares and says nothing else while Chessa pulls the IV supplying Ever with the sleep aid out of her arm. I'm glad, that means that once the dose she's been given wears off, she'll wake up.

As the minutes pass and the nurses leave, I start to dread her waking. What do I even say to her? Do I fall to my knees and weep for forgiveness? Do I hug her until she stops crying? Is she even going to cry? Will she be still angry at me? Should I even acknowledge her until she acknowledges me, or do I let her know she has my attention right away?

I lean over and kiss her forehead while she lays there. Her skin is still too pale too look healthy, but her body has its familiar warmth. I take it as a good sign and rest a bit easier, despite the guilt swallowing me whole. I've hurt the most innocent and loving thing in my life. She trusted me with all of her heart and soul and somehow, I managed to take her trust and misuse it. Maybe I can explain what happened to her again, better, but only if she asks. Maybe if she doesn't, I can fool myself into forgetting about it if I don't think about it. Sound like a plan, Finn. Sounds like a plan.

The blanket that has mysteriously appeared over my legs begins to slip. I wonder who put it there. It might have been Haymitch. _Aw, how paternal of him._ I'll have to tease him about tucking me in next time I see him. Or for the rest of his life.

I'm just about to take another nap when I hear the click of the door opening. My eyes widen when I see Chaff, but I relax when Raewyn follows him in and see the grin on Chaff's face. They say good morning and Raewyn tosses a grocery store bag at me. Inside, are a pair of jeans, a belt, and a button down shirt. They couldn't have gotten into my room, so the jeans are either Chaff's or Haymitch's (later, I find that they're Chaff's.) The shirt's buttons are on the left, meaning it's a girl's shirt.

"Sorry, Chaff and I aren't friends with any men whose shirt size is close to yours. It's mine, before I lost the extra pregnancy weight. Burn it when you're done with it," Raewyn says, reaching into the brown paper bag Chaff it holding and offering a warm blueberry muffin to me.

"Sure you don't want it back in case you get knocked up again?" I tease, accepting the muffin.

"Yeah, _that's _not happening," she says, blue eyes wide.

"You know, abstinence is the only one hundred percent effective birth control."

"Shut up," she rolls her eyes and hands over another muffin. "Haymitch said she'd probably still be out."

Chaff nods and gestures to the hospital bed. "Her daddy's makin' us stay 'ere 'til she's all awake n' whatnot. 'e says 'e knows you wanna stay with 'er 'steada runnin' back to git 'im an update."

_Thank goodness. _If I can help it, I'm not leaving the hospital until she does. Or at least until she's much, much better. I slip into the bathroom and change into the clean clothes, leaving the blood-stained ones from last night on the floor.

Chaff, Raewyn and I sit around the room for the next few hours- me in the chair, him in the other, and her on the counter, leaning against the window. I ask Chaff a few questions about his kids Kieran (age 17) and Miranda (age 21), who used to pal around with Ever until they decided they'd rather stay put in 11 during the Games. Miranda's turned out to be a bit promiscuous, but a good person at heart. I know that his children have gotten involved with rebel business from previous conversations, but don't breathe a word right now. I ask Raewyn to remind me how many kids she has- 8- and eventually ask a question that makes me learn that eight is a small family by District 9 standards.

We talk about the weather, about what we like the most and the least about home, and just about any other bit of small talk we can come up with. Chaff makes a very sexist joke to Raewyn at some point, earning a rude hand gesture. I finish the rest of the muffins, not realizing how hungry I was until they were cold.

I excuse myself from the room to get coffee and take a quick walk around the block to get a little fresh air. I ask if they want anything as well, but both decline. Gesturing to my chair, I tell Raewyn to have a seat if she wants and slip out of the door.

Cool, late summer breezes blow sideways against my face as I walk down Yonderdale Avenue. Occasional rays of sunlight peek out from behind the charcoal grey clouds looming ominously in the overcast sky. The clouds, heavy with rain, threaten to spill over at any moment. Even on an overcast day they streets are as busy as ever.

I finally find a quiet coffee shop four streets from where the hospital is on Yonderdale Avenue and load it with at least ten packets of sugar. A drink would be lovely right now, but I know better than to show up to the hospital with liquor on my breath. I bury my face into my hands and allow my eyes to water, but the tears don't fall, they just linger there.

* * *

_Ever…_

_Beep. Beep. Voices, voices, beep, voices, bang!, voices, beep, beep, beep._

The sudden bombardment of sound pierces through my brain like a siren. I was lost in darkness, silence, and numbness. Alone, quiet, not in pain but not at peace either…just nothingness. No dreaming, no nightmares, no thinking. Now that my senses are no longer failing me, I wonder if that was what it feels like to be brain dead.

"…think she'll remember anything?" Male voice.

"The doctor thinks so." Female voice, hers is quieter than his and much clearer.

The voices go silent, but the beeping persists. A fuzzy noise. A broom against a wood floor? The sound of nails against skin? Or something simpler…rain? Am I outside? No, of course not. Why would I be.

Darkness is still refusing me my vision, but at least I'm starting to hear things. I try to move my leg, but I doubt it's working. Breathing is a bit difficult, not because I can't get air, but because an area near my chest hurts with each breath.

_Pain, pain, go away._

I want to talk, I want to cry, and I want to let someone know that it mouth fails me. It stays shut. But my eyes start to flutter open. I squeeze them shut at first, not yet accustomed to the light.

The voices start again, but I don't hear what they say. All I know is that I can see now and I'm happy. Slowly, I let my eyes open and they stay that way. I take in my surroundings and find the source of the beeping- a machine. All right, there's a machine to my right. There are needles in my arms, there is a tube in my nose. Something is clamped onto one of my fingers. A spot on my tummy hurts as if I were kicked there. My head feels like it's splitting down the middle.

Where am I?

It takes a long time for me to be able to move the rest of my body, not just my eyes. First, a finger wiggles. Then all ten grab at the white sheets covering my body. The rest of me comes to life shortly after, but the last thing I move is my head. I'm almost afraid to turn my neck to give a comprehensive look around, just in case I'm somewhere I'd rather not be.

I look to my right and see a man with skin much darker than mine with a missing hand. His name is on the tip of my tongue. I know I know him; I just can't quite summon his name from the annals of my brain. Finally, I decide that it's better to embarrass myself by getting him name wrong than to stare at him like an idiot and say a name uncertainly.

The man smiles and runs his fingers through my hair paternally. "Right, I'm Chaff. Gave us a right scare, girlie."

I don't like it when people call me girlie. It's demeaning. This man says it so endearingly, so kindly, so void of condescension that I smile at him and apologize. He's so familiar. I know that I can trust him. My memories of him are all coming back to, reminding me that I'm making the right choice in trusting him.

Looking to my left, there is a woman with blonde waves and eyes bluer than most town kids. It's a little easier to piece her name together. Raewyn, I know her. She's my dad's…friend with benefits or something. I remember that she is very nice. I can trust her, too.

Good, so I'm in a room with two people I can trust.

Eventually, I converse with them. As the minutes pass, my confusion becomes less and less prevalent. I realize I'm in a hospital and I remember most of the details of what put me in here. Men, Capitol men. Knives, fists, metal, beating. How did they not kill me, though? They should have killed me, depending on how many men there were. If it was just two, I probably fought them off. Three or more, that's different.

I turn to face Raewyn, then Chaff, then look from one to the other while I ask them where my dad is. "Daddy should be here."

As if on cue, Chaff moves his chair a few inches closer and reaches for my hand. He speaks slowly and clearly so that his District 11 accent isn't as thick as usual. "He wishes he was here for you, little one. Peacekeepers are guarding 'im so that 'e cannot leave."

"Right, the Games. Chaff, why does my head hurt?"

"You shouldn't be in pain," Raewyn says. "Your pain meds must be running out. Push that button right there- no not the yellow one, the red one. The other red one, with the word 'NURSE.' There ya go!"

A man with neon blue hair comes running in. He asks me what he can do for me, to which I just smile politely, unsure what to say. Thankfully, Raewyn speaks for me and tells him that I need more pain meds. He promises to be back 'in a jiff' with more. He follows through with his promise. Within five minutes, pain medication is flowing into my system again.

"Better?" ask both adults in unison.

I nod and try to sit up, but wince at the pain in and around my ribs. They take turns explaining why it hurts: Chaff tells me about the surgery to remove my ruptured spleen and Raewyn explains that some of my ribs might be cracked or broken. She adds that she's pretty sure the x-ray will show that they're just badly bruised- 'If they were broken, the pain would be so much worse,' she explains.

My eyes become watery when I see the reflection of my bruised face in the metal bars of the bed. Chaff hugs me and promises that they'll go away and reminds me that it could have been much, much worse. He kisses my cheek and rubs my back in little circles like my dad does. I almost forgot how much I loved Chaff, ever since I won my Games. For as long as I can remember, Chaff Baakari has been like a second father to me. He's similar to my dad as far as the whole being an alcoholic thing goes, except that he's not quite as bad. But Chaff is also friendlier and more fun-loving than my dad is. During the yearly Capitol trips, they sort of co-parented me and Kieran and Miranda. It was almost like having two gay dads.

Chaff keeps hugging me until the door open and another man steps in the room.

I let out a shrill shriek at the sight of the man, completely unfamiliar to me. I ask Chaff what he's doing here and try to hide behind him.

Raewyn steps closer to me cautiously and places a hand on my back. "Ever sweetie, you know who he is."

I shake my head and insist that I don't. "Am I supposed to?"

"Yes," says the man painfully. "Yes. You know me, Ever. I know you do."

"No," I say slowly. "I'm sorry. Raewyn, do I really know that guy?"

The woman is silent and shares a glance with Chaff. Chaff nods, kisses my cheek, and announces that he's going to go get a doctor. Once he leaves, Raewyn asks me once more, "Ever. I need you to think, think really hard for me, okay? That man standing there, holding the coffee cup, what is his name? You know it, sweetie, I know you do."

I narrow my eyes and stare at the man intently, trying to remember him. After a while, I give up and shake my head. "I don't know it, Raewyn. I've never seen him in my life. What _is _your name?"

The man chokes out a sob and backs into the wall, allowing himself to slide to the floor. "No, no, please be temporary, please be-"

Confusion. Embarrassment. Guilt for making the man cry. I repeat the question I asked earlier, "What's your _name?_"

Raewyn's eyes betray the fear that he gentle, motherly smile tries so hard to hide. "His name is Finnick."

~.*~.*~.*

I feel horrible as the man covers his face with his hands and lets his tears slide down his cheeks. What was I supposed to say? Lie and say that I knew him? But…do I know him? Do I?

Chaff comes back in, followed by a doctor. I forget his name as soon as I hear it because it's so funny. The doctor asks Chaff, Raewyn, the crying guy, and I a bunch of questions. He tells them that he told 'Mr. Abernathy' last night that I may have temporary amnesia when I wake due to the mental and emotional trauma and the physical head trauma. Raewyn and Chaff protest the notion that it is simple temporary amnesia. 'She remembers us, she remembers us just fine,' they argue.

"Amnesia isn't the same in everyone," the doctor says, irritated.

"But why is it jus' 'im that she forgets?" Chaff says. "Huh?"

"Maybe," says the doctor, pushing up his glasses. "It's rare, but it's possible. Maybe her memories of his are so traumatic that she'd rather not remember them. She could be repressing them."

"No," Finnick says by the wall. "That's not it. Her memories of me…Ever, they're happy. I promise you that they are."

The man doesn't look trustworthy. He looks like a Career. Careers can't be trusted. I don't trust him. I look away from him without a word and cling to Chaff with one hand and Raewyn with the other.

"Well," says the doctor. "Then I am positive that this is a case of strange amnesia, or something like it. Head trauma can causes memory loss in strange ways, Ms…and Mr…ah, well, effects of head trauma aren't always the same. Some patients lose all memory of who they are, some lose the ability to make new memories, and others suffer from short-term memory loss for the rest of their lives. Ever's situation is very rare, but not unheard of. In all of the documented cases, of which there is only a handful, very few never had their memory fully restored."

"How many is…very few?" I ask slowly.

"Five out of seven hundred. Not even a hundredth of a percentage of patients, Ms. Abernathy."

The doctor's words are supposed to be comforting, but they aren't. So I _do _know Finnick, I just don't remember a single thing about him.

Lovely.

~.*~.*~.*

Chaff leaves to give my father an update on me, Finnick leaves and goes to sleep in the visitor's lounge, but Raewyn stays with me. She doesn't have to, but I'm glad she does. I don't want to be alone, I hate being alone.

I ask her about my dad and how he's holding up. "He's been better," she says. "He's a wreck worrying about you."

"I feel guilty. He really doesn't have to care so much."

"No," she says. "It's a parent's job to care that much."

"Don't you have Zahra and the baby to worry about?" I ask. "You don't have to babysit me if you don't want to."

"Eri and Isis have then," she says. "Someone has to be here."

I nod and smile, thanking her for being here. My eyelids grow heavy, telling me that sleep is near. The clock read 7:00 PM. On a normal day, it would be too early for sleep, but these pain meds are like a sleep aid.

I make no effort to fight it as I drift off to sleep.

My dreams don't feel like dreams, they feel like memories. I dream of being a little girl in District 12, playing with my friends. I dream about my father carrying me on his shoulders as we walked through the Capitol when I was still too small to cross the street alone. I have nightmares about clients. I have nightmares about the arena and about last night's attack.

Strangely, I dream about Finnick.

I dream about being a little kid, dancing and running around barefoot in the rain with him, while Capitol citizens stare at us like we're the ones who look like aliens. I dream about being five, meeting him in 12 on his victory tour. I dream of playing hide and seek in the training center with him, and of us playing tricks on the victors. I dream of him dressing up as a fairy princess because a child version of me told him to. I dream about him happily making an idiot of himself in public with me, dancing to songs from before the Dark Days with dances to them like Caramelldansen simply because it made us laugh, and him teaching me the Single Ladies dance in the middle of the Capitol Square.

My dreams shift to some less fun-filled moment of him. Instead of laughter, I dream of tears when I come back to his room after seeing clients, I dream of a scary night when we cross a line, I dream of the attack, but this time, he is there helping me.

I wake with a start, ignoring the pain in my ribs as I jolt into a sitting position. Taking a look around the dark room, I see that Raewyn is asleep but that someone sitting by the window is not. It's him; it's the guy that Chaff and Rae say that I should remember. I close my eyes as he tiptoes from the window to my bedside. He drops to his knees so that he's closer to my current height and takes my hand in both of his.

His voice is quiet, a tad shaky, but still clear and full of sincerity. "My name is Finnick Odair, victor of the 65th Hunger Games, fisherman from District 4. I'm your best friend. You love me a whole lot, but not as much as I love you. I've known you since you were five and I was fourteen. You sometimes call me 'your Finnick. We like music from before the Dark Days, we spends tons of time listening to it. You really like learning the songs on your guitar. You looked forward to the Games every year because it meant we could hang out and play tricks on Brutus, Enobaria, and anyone else from Districts 1 and 2. We also played tricks on our friends sometimes, because it was funny. Johanna was always fun to mess with, even though you've always been terrified of her, you knew that if I was with you she wouldn't do anything. I always dance with you in public places and very loudly sing the lyrics to songs with you because you only get one childhood, and I wanted to make sure that it was the best childhood _ever..._Ever."

At the Ever/ever pun, I laugh and give away the fact that I am awake. "There you go with the pun," I sigh. "Everyone does it."

He apologizes with a crestfallen expression, hoping that his use of the pun would bring back memories. He sighs and runs his fingers through his familiar long, thick, messy hair and stares down at his hands. "You don't remember me right now, and that's okay. The doctor says that it's supposed to be temporary. Even if it's permanent, I'm here. I've always been, I always will be."

"Drunk, sober, or hungover, I know."

His eyes light up. "Y-you remember?"

"Not exactly," I say. "I was dreaming about a whole lot of things. You were in most of the dreams. Except, they felt more like memories. They _were _memories, I know they were, but they don't feel real yet. A part of me knows you, but the other part isn't sure yet."

Finnick follows what I'm saying better than I thought he would. At least I'm making sense to somebody. "I get it, I really do."

"I'm sorry I made you cry. Boys only cry if they are really, really sad. I made you sad."

"Sh," he whispers, kissing my forehead. "Don't apologize, baby. Nothing that happened is your fault."

He says goodnight and tells me that he's going to sleep in the visitor's lounge tonight but promises to be here tomorrow. I refuse to let him go and demand that he stay, mumbling something about how I trust him now, so he can stay.

He doesn't argue.


	83. The Sunshine's Been Missing

There's lots of Brandi Carlile and Jack's Mannequin in the Everlast Spotify playlist xD Their music fits so perfectly!

Chapter has a three day time skip- except the first bit before the first ~.*~.*~.*, which is a two day time skip (the reasons it's in past tense).

Meh, short and sucky. Next chapter will be longer.

I have a new fic called Ocean Breathes Salty. It'd be cool if y'all read and reviewed! :)

* * *

**The Sunshine's Been Missing**

* * *

_Katie, I'm sorry_

_That in your condition_

_The sunshines been missing_

_But Katie_

_Don't believe that it isn't there_

_~ Jack's Mannequin "There, There, Katie"_

* * *

_Haymitch…_

"I have an idea," Katniss said onscreen as she held her fist above Peeta's arm. "Open your palm."

Peeta was obedient and opened his palm, gasping when she dropped a number of nightlock berries into it. He opened his mouth to protest, but snapped his jaw shut when Katniss hissed to trust her. Of course, the boy trusted her with all that he is.

"On the count of three?" The girl said deadpan.

Peeta leaned down and kissed her once. "The count of three." They stand, backs pressed together, empty hands locked tight. "Hold them out. I want everyone to see," he said.

The dark berries glistened with a hint of a purple tint in the sun in their spread out palms. Suicide. Brilliant, why didn't I think of that? Katniss starteed the countdown. One…two…three…the berries just entered her mouth when the trumpets blared and the hysterical voice of Claudius Templesmith cried:

"Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark! I give you — the tributes of District Twelve!"

They spat the berries from their mouth and wiped the saliva away to make sure nothing was swallowed. They exchanged a few words before the hovercraft came. Caesar and Claudius began their post-Games commentary, I finished my glass of water and slammed it down on the table. Their victory was surely going to unleash a whole new world of trouble, but frankly, I didn't care. I had a more important place to be, somewhere that I should have been the past few days. I'd have plenty of time to worry about 12s newest victors, but it wasn't the time.

Peacekeepers tried to stop me from leaving, but I threatened one of them with their life and they backed off. Nobody really wants to mess a victor, even a middle-aged drunk like me. The hospital wasn't too far of a walk. Ever had been moved to a different room the day before, Chaff told me. The room she was originally in was for patients in a somewhat critical condition, and her new assignment on the ninth floor means a great improvement. I owe Chaff, Mags, Finnick, Seeder and Raewyn big time. They'd really gone out of their way by making sure that at all times, at least two of them have been at the hospital to keep her company.

Ever's amnesia- or whatever it is- improved daily. She still didn't totally understand who Finnick was. She trusted him now, and liked it when he stayed overnight with her, but it was different. Memories came back to her in her dreams, but certain key memories hadn't quite clicked. I saw that her not knowing him as 'her Finn' just killed him. Nobody hoped for a full restoration of her memory quite as much as he.

I felt guilty as I stood outside of room 909. One would think that at the very least, I could have tried to squeeze in five minutes to come by and see her. Even five minutes would have meant the world to her, but I didn't even give her that. Some father _I_ am. I was in the middle of reaching for the handle when the door opened from the other side.

"Well it's about _time _you showed up. Hey Ever, look who finally remembered to come by," Seeder said with a bite to her gentle tone. I wasn't angry; she was right, I should have been there sooner. Ever looked up from a book and placed it neatly in her lap. "Oh good, you remembered you had a kid. Don't tell me that you have memory issues now, too."

Seeder and Mags slipped out of the room while I walked to the chair on her right side. Finnick was somewhere at the hospital, he hadn't left since he brought Ever there, but I was sure the little old ladies could keep him away for a while.

Apologizing to her was fruitless. I reached for her hand, but she yanked it away. "You know," she picked up the book and bookmarked it. "You could have come by."

"You know why I couldn't be here."

"Doesn't make it okay," her voice broke. "F-Finnick never leaves. I don't even really know who he is, Daddy. I don't know. But he's here, he's always here. And I like him because he's so nice to me. A man that I barely…that I barely remember is here more than you. I need my dad."

I took the sheet and gently wiped the tears from her eyes and cheeks. I raised an eyebrow at the skin-colored patches on the sheet. "Makeup?"

Ever's lip quivered as she held in tears. "My face is so bruised and gross. I made Raewyn teach me how to hide it."

"They'll go away. The scar from the surgery won't be that prominent forever, I promise."

"Yeah," she squeaked just before throwing her arms around me and sobbing into my arms.

Seeing her upset isn't something I enjoy, but I was overjoyed that it was me who she wanted to hold on to and cry to this time. I'll admit that I get a little jealous when she runs to others for comfort. Blame it on the whole 'single-dad' thing. I hate sharing her with other people, particularly teenage boys from 12 and fishermen from 4. She usually runs to anyone but me when she's sad, hurt, or confused. Her faulty memory had taken the option of Finnick from her, and honestly, I was happy to settle for being her default.

"Is there anything I can do to cheer you up, sweetheart?"

She turned her head to the side and kept holding onto my shirt. "Just be my dad, Daddy. I need my father."

~.*~.*~.*

It's funny how the day after I finally visit her she gets released. Dr. Amisi makes me sign several papers- basically saying that the hospital isn't liable if she gets AIDS or hepatitis from a bad blood transfusion, or if she has complications from surgery. So, basically, papers that say that if something happens to her because the hospital staff screwed up their job, it's not their fault.

The victor interviews are later this afternoon.

I wish there was a way to stress to the kids how dire this dual-victor situation is. But how can I without getting my little girl involved in the rebel business? I can't. I won't put her in any more danger than she is already in. I've failed at protecting her so far; I can at least do this.

Ever walks with crutches due to a broken foot and sprained ankle, just added to her official injury count last night- at least it's all on the right foot. I think she looks adorable trying to walk with them, but she hates it and insists that she's walking like a crackhead whale.

_Crash! _

Ever shrieks as she stumbles into a plant inside the training center, causing it and the pot it rests in to fall over. She swears and takes one of the crutches and hits the elevator door with it repeatedly. Except, she doesn't pay attention when the elevator doors open. The first person the crutch speeds toward is able to dodge it, but the second isn't so lucky.

Johanna falls to the floor laughing as Ever's crutch nails Finnick where the sun don't shine. "Great Aegir! You could take down a whole effing Career Pack with that thing!"

Ever drops her crutches and drops to all fours, using her arms and good leg to crawl inside the elevator. "Hey," she says to her assault victim. "Didn't see you there."

"Yeah, figured," he squeaks through his teeth still clenched in pain.

"I, um. I was just coming up to get my stuff to go home."

"And I was coming down to ask if you wanted me to grab it. But uh. I'm kind of immobile now."

Ever looks at him and smiles that smile that's always been reserved for him and reaches her arms out to me. "Crutches, parental unit. I'll go upstairs and get it. You can lie down and finish packing after you, um…stuff…stops hurting."

I hand her the crutches, but would be lying if I said I wasn't worried about her. "Will you be okay going up with him?"

"I trust him, Daddy."

_So do I, sweetheart. I trust him with your life._

"Plus, I can get just crutch him in the manparts again."

Finnick screams in fear. "Please no!"

* * *

_Ever…_

"Need help?" Finnick asks, keeping his foot at the elevator door so it won't close once we're on the fourth floor.

"No."

"Positive?"

"Yes! I can't get all by myself!"

It's hard to get up off the ground using only one leg while simultaneously trying to set up crutches. Eventually, I give up and let him help me. His gentleness is so familiar, though I know that no other men have ever handled me with such care. Why is he doing this? I seem to be doing nothing but hurting him right now, forgetting him and all. He should be mad at me. Why isn't he?

"You should hate me," I tell him.

"Why is that?"

"It doesn't take a genius to see that you're hurting. I'm sorry I don't remember. I'm sorry."

Finnick smiles sadly and says, "It isn't your fault, hon. None of this was ever your fault. I don't hate you; I hate the guys who did this to you. Ever, even if you don't remember exactly how much we…what we are to each other, it's all right. It will never stop hurting, but I will never, _ever_ hate you. I love you, I always will."

I stare at him, bewildered. "We're close, aren't we?"

"Very," he confirms.

"Then it makes sense…" I mumble.

We finish packing my stuff in silence. I recognize the stuffed three-eyed monster and grab it off of the bed. Finnick bought this for me, I know that he did. He bought it for me special. It was the one of the days I had a whole bunch of clients, and he hung out with Johanna. It was the same day that he went and got drunk that night! Yes, it was…it…he jumps a mile high when I squeak his name.

I show him the monster. "You bought this for me."

His eyes lit up like a kid on his birthday. "Yes, I did. Do you like it?"

"I love him," I say. "He's adorable. I cuddled him when you were out with Johanna."

"You remember…" he notes hopefully.

"I think I do," I say.

My mind races. Names, faces, and voices spin through my head like a vortex, until only one name, one face, and one voice are left. It's his name, his face, his voice. His words, his advice, his laughter, it all comes back to me in a flash. Our late night conversations, our mischief during our more carefree days, our inside jokes. I remember the way his arms feel around me, the contagiousness of his smile, the way that he sings loudly and off-key on purpose to hide that fact that he really does have a beautiful voice that only a privileged few have heard, and the way that he always takes my book while I'm reading and overdramatically reads a passage in a Capitol accent. Things that are just too detailed to be a product of imagination, things that feel far too real for my mind to fabricate come back to be. I know that the L in Finnick L. Odair doesn't stand for one of the uber-masculine names that the Capitol girls guess like Luke, Leo, or Landon, but for Loren, and that it is something that he keeps under lock and key.

My eyes go wide as I stare at him, packing up the rest of his things. "Your name is Finnick Loren Odair, you're from District 4. Your father's name is Teague, and he still works on the boats, despite you being a victor. Your mother's name was Havana, and she lived with you until she died from…cancer, I think. Weren't you nineteen? You have an older brother who shunned you after you won your Games. If I remember correctly, his name is Macklin. You have a lovely tenor voice that you really should show off more. You play guitar, piano, violin, ukulele, and basically any other instrument District 4 has got because your mother was the music teacher at the school in District 4 and made you learn, but you don't like to show that off either. We've written music and lyrics together before. But despite your musical abilities, that wasn't your post-Games talent. It was something like…bracelet making…or something, was it not?"

The young man is silent, his back to me. I continue. "Your looks are perfect, which is why nobody would believe you if you told them that you'd rather have brown eyes than sea green because you hate your eye color. Your favorite color is purple and red makes you want to punch a baby. You're the victor of the 65th Hunger Games. You were fourteen then, you're twenty-three now. Your birthday is June 5th and you already celebrate alone with a few glasses of wine. I'd like to be able to celebrate a birthday with you sometime- I think you'd enjoy the company. I know you. You're my Finnick, my best friend, and something else entirely that I can't quite but a label to."

"Ever," he says, standing to stand up. "Are you trying to say-"

"That I remember you? Yes, I am. I remember you Finnick; I know exactly who you a-"

His arms are around me in an instant, his hands at my lower back, holding me against him. His breath is warm against my neck, his words barely even a whisper when he says, "Thank Aegir. Ever, love. I thought that you wouldn't…I can't imagine you not- thank you. Thank you. I love you so much, hon. So, so much."

"Good, then you'll be so kind as to pass me my crutches. Can't have me using my leg, now can we?"

"Back to using me as your slave monkey already? Your recovery is speedier than I expected," he hands me the crutches and grins. "I'm glad."

~.*~.*~.*

Saying goodbye to him is hard. I'm sure that we're giving the gossip magazine plenty to speculate about as he walks next to me to the trains, as we hug until Mags makes him let go, as we say our goodbyes with a soft peck on the lips. He leaves me with the promise to think of a great birthday gift for me, since the Victory Tour falls sometime around my April 15th birthday.

I mercilessly tease my father about being later to arrive the train station- because it's not secret who he was with and what he was doing. Though, I can't bring myself to tease Raewyn about it, since she's just too nice. I'm going to miss her almost as much as Finn. She gives me a big hug and lends me two more books, insisting that I take them and just return them on the Victory Tour. She's and Eri are also planning on getting birthday presents for me, as well as making some sort of sugary treat. I told them that cheesecake is my favorite.

A part of me wants to tell her about my encounters with William Hemsworth, but a bigger part of me knows that if she knew, she's track him down and kill him. I don't want anyone else killing for me; I'll bet Finnick is already in a world of trouble for killing the street thugs.

So, I keep my mouth shut.

I didn't even watch Katniss and Peeta's post-Games interview. I should have, but frankly, I don't care to watch Games highlights. It isn't until after, when I see him on the train that I find out that Peeta's missing a leg. Coincidentally, it is his right. In an effort to lighten the mood:

"District 12 doesn't have the best look when it comes to legs, does it?"

Peeta laughs at the stupid joke, but Katniss scowls and says something along the lines of 'stupid kid.' I say nothing rude in return, nor do I say something cutting. I meant what I said about trying to be civil. She deserves a grace period, which I will give.

The Capitol fades from view as we head home. Home. Where I have my bookshelf, my stuffed animals, my piano, my instruments, my bed…people. I swallow the acid taste that forms in my throat when I thinking about returning home to the people I know, particularly Kenton. I know that breaking things off with him is the right thing to do. Truthfully, it's what I've been wanting to do. Even so, I cannot say that I'm looking forward to it.

Daddy starts drinking as soon as the train passes through the mountain. I roll my eyes at him and go to lie down, but first make my dad promise to wake me when we get home.

The 74th Hunger Games are over at last.


	84. Maybe Memories

Disclaimer: I still do not own The Hunger Games. If I did, Finnick wouldn't have died, Annie might have, Peeta or Gale would have, and there would have been more Haymitch and exposed Finnick.

This :-: means flashback. ~.*~.*~.* still means scene change.

A lot of Haymitch memory fluff- I felt I had some things in his past to kind of clarify- Ever/Rose stuff, really. The chapter *is* uneventful. I wanted to add a bunch of Haymitch/Rose/Ever personal history. Next chapter will be more eventful, as will the rest of the D12 chapters.

* * *

**Maybe Memories**

* * *

_You showed me how_

_You seemed to find a hole _

_But I just laughed and smiled_

_Begged and rolled my eyes_

_Even cried and_

_Denied the truth to you_

_Just like the truth to me_

_Mostly lied_

_~ The Used "Maybe Memories"_

* * *

**::Three Day Time Skip::  
**

_Ever…_

A broken foot has reduced me to little more than a giant infant. I haven't showered since I left the Capitol because I can't stand, I'm basically confined to the upstairs, and if I want a meal that tastes good, I have to make my father carry me downstairs so I can make something. Pitiful, that's what it is. I haven't left my room since dinner time on the first night back. I've basically just laid in bed in the total darkness, bored, angry, annoyed, and a smidge self-loathing.

I know that eventually, I'm going to have to leave this house and talk to Kenton; I have enough decency to at least call things off in person. Luckily, his work schedule is aiding my procrastination nicely. Today is Wednesday. Mine workers only have time off on Sundays. It seems like everyone I know (or used to know) is a mine worker now. To list a few: my mother's brothers, their wives, my older cousins, Kenton, his older brothers, other acquaintances of mine.

Options truly _are _limited.

Daddy is back to drinking. It's worse than before- at least it's worse than it was before the last Games started. I guess he's drinking double time to make up for his lack of poison consumption these past few weeks. He was out late drinking at the Hob last night. And the night before. He staggered in the front door at around two-thirty this morning. At least I hope it was him staggering in and not some random drunk guy. The string of swear words that fell from his mouth sure sounded like my dad, so I guess it's him. It's almost noon, he should be awake soon. Awake and hungover. I'm willing to bet two thousand liras that by four, he'll be drunk again. Two thousand liras…that's more than some families in 12 live off of for a year. Maybe my elementary school bullies were right about me being a 'damn spoiled brat.' I wouldn't know a financial struggle if it jumped up and bit me on the behind.

Birds chirp in the trees as the leaves begin to change, as they often do in the early autumn. I like the leaves, hate the birds. They're annoying. I throw one of my pillows at the window and shout at them to shut up. They don't.

I don't want to be home. Home means facing demons that I can at least begin to ignore whilst prostituting myself or screwing around with Finnick for the fun of it. _Admit it Ever, it was just for the fun of it those last few times. You used him just as much as he used you. _I admit it, as does he. At least in the Capitol, I don't have to feel guilty for being a dirty slut, a filthy whore, a walking sex toy, a child without any vestige of her innocence. But here in District 12, I have to lie. I have to look people in the eye and pretend that everything is peachy keen. It's a life that I thought I could manage- people lead double lives in books all the time. Turns out I overestimated myself.

At least District 12 has had a victor this year. No, not one. Two. Of course, two victors isn't anything to celebrate about- at least that's what my father said on the train.

:-:

_I flung myself onto the bed in the room that I claimed as mine, also known as The First Room I Saw. I was about to drift off to sleep when my father walked into the room and let the door shut with a slam. _

"_The hell do you want?"_

"_Ever Elizabeth, watch your language," he hissed, drinking from the bottle in his hand._

"_I learned from you," I glared. "What's so important that you had to postpone my nap?"_

_I had never seen the man so serious. Not when I was reaped, not after I won, not at all during this whole prostitution problem, and certainly never when he (however rarely) disciplines me had he ever been as serious. The usual 'I-don't-give-any-fucks-about-anything' vibe that comes along with his presence was gone. _

_He sat on the foot of the bed and motioned for me to sit next to him. Despite the fact that I could barely keep my eyes open, I slid next to him. "You're going to be quiet, and you're going to listen. You are not to breathe a word of this to anybody."_

_I inched away from him, a little scared. He (gently) grabbed my arm and gestured for me to move closer to him, which I did, reluctantly. "Am I in trouble, Daddy?"_

_He bit his lip and looked at me with regret. "We all are." _

"_I don't understand, I was good this year. I…fulfilled whatever sick, nasty desires-"_

_Daddy inhaled sharply and shook his head. "It has nothing to do with anything you did. I need you to listen and do exactly as I say."_

"_All right."_

_He put the bottle to his lips and downed about a fourth of it. The tone in his voice was so urgent, he was so frantic. I wanted to say something, but found my mouth frozen and my words lost. I've always known my father to be a wise man, but he sounded far beyond his forty years when he spoke. "You are going to have a ton of questions but I am telling you not to ask any them. It's for your own good, I am protecting you by not acknowledging them. There are things happening that I won't let you be exposed to. You are to keep this conversation secret, no one is to know, do you understand me?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Tell me. Why do they have a victor? Why not just torture these children to death, why do they let one live?"_

"_I don't know, Daddy. I kind of wish that they didn't."_

"_Hope, Ever. Hope is the reason that they have a victor. Hope is the only thing that can outshine sadness, outshine fear. Why is there only one victor?"_

"_To not give the Districts too much hope. To show that amnesty has its limits. To give the Districts just enough hope until the next year."_

"_You're right. How does this dual victory contradict all of those statements?"_

_I pondered this for a while, eventually coming to the conclusion that I didn't know. "You tell me."_

_He has a tell when he's lying or just giving me partial-truths; he's an animated person like I am and talks with his hands, but when he isn't giving me the full truth, his hands are still like they were when he continued. "An overabundance of hope, Ever. This dual victory is dangerous for us, for all of us. The higher ups in the Capitol are not pleased, namely Snow. Things are going to happen, and they're going to be scary. I don't know when they will happen, but I promise you that they will. I am going to trust you with information that you must never share. I am involved in some…things. Things that I can't talk about, things that aren't even safe to talk about, I'm involved in. In time you will know what they are. For now, you will not. Everything that I tell you or do not tell you is to protect you."_

"_I'm not a little girl anymore, I don't need protecting."_

"_You're still my little girl," snapped Daddy. "I'm your father, protecting you is my job."_

"_Fine job you've done."_

_He slapped his palms to his knees and shot a glare my direction. "Ever Elizabeth! This is serious. You have to promise that you won't repeat a word of what I said. To anybody."_

"_Of course," I said. "Sounds like whatever you're involved in can get you killed. Why would I tell?"_

_Daddy pulled me into a hug and kissed my nose, the liquor heavy on his breath. "I'm trying to be your dad, sweetheart."_

:-:

Despite popular belief, Haymitch Abernathy is a great father when he isn't trying to be. When he does try, it's just irritating. The fact that he's being so cryptic doesn't make it any less irritating. What kind of secret stuff can he possibly be involved in? It's not like he can be overthrowing the government or something- Snow's just too powerful and the rest of us so powerless.

Cryptic Haymitch is annoying.

I roll over in bed and grab my mom's picture from the nightstand and stare at it, like I often do. I wonder what would have happened if she'd won her Games. We'd be a family, a 'real one.' People might stop calling me 'Haymitch Abernathy's illegitimate child.' Of course, I would always have been born out of wedlock, but at least my parents would have eventually been married. I'd have a mom, but I'd also have two parents broken and mentally scarred by the arena. That would have made all of the Abernathys nutcases. Perhaps she would have turned to drinking, like her husband (my dad as someone's husband? Shocking, I know.) The idea of Daddy being _married_ is so foreign to me that it kind of freaks me out. I shudder at the thought of seeing him and my mom making out in the kitchen: where I was probably conceived. I can't believe they had sex on the counter, like a couple of sexually charged teenagers.

The sound of heavy footsteps against the hardwood floors alerts me to the fact that he's awake. _Don't come in my room, don't come in my room- and you're coming to my room. _It's not that I don't like him, it's just that he's really irritating when I'm sick or injured. I suddenly regress to infancy.

My bedroom door creaks open, but I don't turn over to look at him. "You can go."

"You haven't left your room since we arrived home," he ignores my statement. "I know it ain't just because of your foot."

"It's funny how your accent is more prominent when you're at home than it is in the Capitol. You use the word 'ain't,' for one. You pronounced 'arrived' like 'ah-rahvd.' Have you ever noticed that the 12 accent is like a happy medium between 11 and 4?"

"What's going on with you? You're acting unlike yourself."

I shrug and wave my hand noncommittally, "People change, Daddy. You of all people should know that."

"Ever, please just talk to me? I want to help you, let me help you."

"It's complicated."

"I can follow."

Stubborn man, my father is. "It's really stupid, actually. I'm sad about it at all, just guilty."

"If this is about the men then you hush right now. None of that is your fault, nothing you did or said brought that o-"

I shush him and assure him it's not that. "It's stupid, really. I'm going to call things off with Kenton Sunday. It's time I did it, and I feel bad."

"What are your reasons?"

"Because-" _I'm a whore. I'm disgusting. He can't possibly understand me. Because of Finnick. Because Kenton is too innocent. Because I hate myself. Because I don't deserve affection, attention, or anything good._

"I just want to. It's for the best, he's too innocent, too naïve. I'm just unhappy, you know? This stuff with the Capitol, the Games, the arena- it has all messed me up. My life is on a downward spiral and I don't need to be dragging anybody else down with me."

Being someone's daughter is a tricky thing. Men seem to think that no matter what, their daughters are perfect little pear blossoms. Deep down I know that Daddy knows I'm right about my downward spiral, but he won't admit that he does. I hate how he's constantly in denial long after I've accepted the truth.

"Well," he says, playing with my hair. "Just do whatever will make you happy. Sometimes you have to put other's feelings aside for your own. Selfish? Of course it is, but everyone deserves to be a little selfish now and then, especially when it benefits both parties in the long run. Most importantly, you have to look out for yourself and that sometimes means hurting or disappointing others. That's just a fact of life, sweetheart."

"I know."

A short silence follows as he sits there playing with my hair. I've always liked it when people play with my hair; I guess it's just always been a soothing, calming gesture. He twirls one of my semi-curls around his finger and asks, "Are you hungry? I can make something for you."

_Starving. _"No," I lie. "You don't have time, anyway. You're busy with all of this Katniss and Peeta stuff. I can't believe you have time to drink, much less-" My stomach rumbles, giving away my fib.

"I'm never too busy to take care of my daughter," he says with certain harshness in his tone. "What are you hungry for?"

"What do we have?"

"Everything," he sighs.

"Then just figure out something that takes little preparation and does not require the food to touch the counter."

Daddy rolls his eyes but can't hide his smile or the amusement in his voice. "You're never going to let that one go, are you?"

"Never."

I'm positive that he let the peanut butter and honey sandwich touch the counter just to spite me, but I don't poke fun at him and just eat it and the crackers and strawberries he brings for me.

* * *

_Haymitch…_

I can't believe she thinks I'm too busy to take care of her. I've been her dad for almost fifteen years she knows I always have time for her. Any man who is worth being called a father always find the time. To be honest, I like having to take care of her while she's basically immobile. It reminds me of her being small, when she depended on me. Her broken foot is giving me an excuse to baby her. I just wish there was more I could do for her. Before the 60th Games, there was always something I could do for Rose when she needed it. If only it were that simple with Ever.

Rose. Now there's someone who couldn't stay out of tough situations, half of the time her fault, the other half simply the results of her life circumstances. Born in the Seam, she and her two brothers were brought up by their aunt and uncle, who lived in town, but they were only town people by location. Her aunt and uncle would have lived just fine with their own five children had the Fairchild's not been handed to them when their parents died in a mine explosion. Evander Fairchild was Irina Fernslay's older brother, Rose's father.

She was in my little brother's grade, always in the same class. Seamus befriended her on the very first day, when she just laughed and told him 'I like to tug my ponytail too,' when he kept pulling on her hair. I didn't pay her much mind- she was my kid brother's age and I found most kids annoying, but I was thankful that my awkward, nosy, obnoxious baby brother had a friend. It was nice to see that a girl besides Ania and our mother cared about him. No matter how much I protested, I'd always get suckered into playing hide and seek with the two of them (I'll never admit that I enjoyed it.) She became part of the family in a way. Then it was time for the 50th Games, the second Quarter Quell. I was reaped, I said goodbye to my family, and then-eight-year-old Rose came in with my mother and brother to wish me luck. 'I know you'll win, you're smart and you're also mean. I mean that in a nice way,' she said.

I won. My mother was killed. My brother killed. My not-even-serious girlfriend was, too. I turned to the bottle just eighteen days after my victory. Five days later, Rose, who had just turned nine, knocked on my door. 'Seamus is dead,' I said harshly.

'I know that. I came to see you. My aunt and uncle say that you're sad right now, that's why you're drinking that stuff that smells like goat pee. I'm going to cheer you up because that's what you do when people are sad.'

Against my will, I humored her for the day. She brought flowers that she picked herself, a batch of cookies from the bakery, and one of her own stuffed animals- a grey mouse in a red jacket- and explained that the mouse always makes her feel better. After spending six hours at my house, she promised that she would be back the next day. 'Sure kid, whatever you say,' I said with sarcasm. There was no way she was serious. Oh, how wrong I was.

She didn't spend as much time with me the next day- just about two hours- but she was still determined to cheer me up. 'I'm going to bring the fun Haymitch back,' she declared before leaving. Every day for the next two and a half years she came by my house, often with wildflowers and a cookie. Sometimes I yelled at her. She often saw me drunk. I told her I hated her, that she was a stupid little kid who didn't understand things, that she was annoying. Never once did I see her cry because of the things I said. Why, she cared, I never did understand, but I eventually came to look forward to her visits. We'd talk. I'd end up yelling at her six times out of ten, but she never, ever did cry, or storm out in a huff. No matter what I always got a hug and a 'I'll see you tomorrow, Haymitch.'

After two and half years of her visits, it was her first reaping. She ran to my house the night before the first reaping, her light olive face turned pale with worry. 'My brothers are making fun of me and telling me I'm going to be reaped, Haymitch! It's not true, is it?' Part of me wanted to yell at her and tell her yes, she will be reaped tomorrow, but I just couldn't be mean to this kid who has been nothing but kind to me, who made Seamus's short life happy with her friendship. I told her the same thing everyone tells twelve-year-olds, that her name was only in there once and that the odds were in her favor. Much to my relief, I was right.

The first three weeks after those Games ended were rough, filled with yelling and insults. Yet, Rose was determined to bring back 'the happy, funny Haymitch that she knows is still in there.' After those three weeks, then-nineteen-year-old me swallowed my pride and apologized for being so rude to her. 'And kid…thanks for showing up.' Rose was growing on me. Despite being eight years her senior, I considered her my friend. She was also the last link to my pre-arena life, the last reminder of the happy memories I had of my mother and brother. I needed that bothersome girl in my life to remind me of who I had been, of who I still was on the inside.

The next few years went on like that with her never failing to come by my house with a smile and a hug ready. Suddenly, at fifteen, she was all grown up. Attractive, intelligent, kind, funny- with her attributes, she could have done a lot more than hanging out with a drunk like me. She never did skip a day. When she was around, it was hard to keep the house messy. 'Geez Haymitch, do you ever clean up around here?' she would say as she obsessively cleaned. I told her not to clean, that I would take care of it (eventually) but she insisted. It was on one of those late cleaning days that things changed.

District 12 technically has a curfew. It hasn't been enforced in over a decade, but when Rose was a teenager, she was skittish about breaking it. 'I won't make it home in time,' she said. I rolled my eyes at her and told her that she being a baby. 'Am not! What if…what is I get arrested?'

'You're not going to get arrested.'

'How do you know?'

I remember smacking my forehead when I answered her. 'I'm going to regret saying this, but you're staying here tonight, pick a room, there are plenty.'

Her face flushed pink from what I assumed was embarrassment. 'A-are you sure?'

'Unless you want to take your chances with those Peacekeepers...'

She scowled, but agreed to stay the night and chose a room close to mine and within an hour, her room was silent. I peeked in on her just to make sure she was all right and found her fast asleep tucked under the blankets but she still looked a little cold to me until I placed another blanket over her. Eventually I must have gone to bed and fallen asleep, because the next thing I remember is having a nightmare about the arena and about my family. Ania, Seamus, Maysilee, my parents, the other tributes in the 50th Games, the kids I'd mentored. Their faces all come back to me in my dreams with anger, hatred, and accusation. Their angry voices hissed my name repeatedly until I woke up to Rose shaking me awake and practically yelling at me.

Except I didn't realize it was her when I slashed my knife through the air, or when I punched her so hard that she fell backwards. I finally realized it was her when she stood up, still catching her breath after having the wind punched out of her. Horrified, I grabbed her and pulled her close to me and apologized profusely. As much as I hated to admit it, I really liked her company and didn't want a stupid nightmare to scare her off…I was fool to think that it would have. Once she got her breath back, all she did was slip out of my arms and stare in confusion.

'Why are you apologizing?'

It was my turn to be confused. 'I punched you.'

'I should have known better than to wake you,' she said. 'I guess I just heard you having a nightmare and felt like I had to do something. Like help.'

'I appreciate the consideration, but I'm twenty-three. I can handle a few bad dreams.'

Rose shook her head and sat down on the edge of the bed. 'Do you need to talk about it?'

I rolled my eyes at her and rejected the offer. 'Like you're some kind of shrink and I'm a mental case? No thanks.'

Her arms folded over her chest as she sat expectantly. 'Then I'll just sit here until you tell me.'

After years of being subject to her, I never should have underestimated Rose Fairchild and her inhuman determination- but I did. I didn't think that she would actually sit there for three hours. I didn't think that I would fall asleep with her sitting over me. I certainly wasn't expecting to wake up to her asleep with her head on the chest, but her body still in a sitting position. I wasn't sure whether to be annoyed with her or happy that someone actually cared about me that much. To my annoyance, I chose the latter. Rose slept for a few more hours that morning, her head on my chest. There was no way the she wasn't cold, so I folded half of my blankets over her.

The clock read nine-fifteen when her eyes finally fluttered open and her soft, sleepy voice piped up, 'Haymitch?'

'The nightmares,' I say without thinking. 'They're usually about the Games, the people I killed, my ally from 12. Sometimes they're about my older sister- I know I told you about Ania- and my father. Seamus is always in my nightmares. My mom is, too…but it's mostly Seamus and the Games. Happy?'

Rose smiled and kept her head on my chest. 'Persistence really does get everything done.'

'Tenacity, more like it.' They mean the same thing, but tenacity sounds more cunning, which is precisely what Rose was, if it were possible to be tenacious in a good way.

'Thank you for telling me,' she said, the sleepiness gone from her voice as she sits up and moves from my body.

'You left me no choice.'

I don't know how or why it happened, but one moment, we were staring at each other. The next, her face was inches from mine. The next, she brushed her lips against mine and we kissed. _You're twenty-three, she's fifteen, you're twenty-three, she's fifteen. _But the age difference didn't matter as the kiss intensified until we had to break for air. We sat and stared at each other again until Rose clapped a hand over her mouth with wide eyes. 'I'm sorry,' she apologized. 'I'm sorry, I just, I-'

'Women. Giving apologies when they're not necessary.'

'But I- Haymitch that was so rude of me!'

'Did I stop you?'

"No…'

'And are you the adult that just kissed a teenager?'

'No…'

'It's me who should be apologizing.'

Rose shook her head while her face blushed red. 'I like you. Like, _like _like you. If it weren't for the fact that I know you won't reciprocate my feeling, I'd say that I love you. I've had a crush on you since I was seven. When Seamus and I were in school together, I genuinely liked you as a person- you were his awesome big brother. I was determined not to let funny, smart, snarky but caring Haymitch disappear because of the Games and what happened to your family afterward. Haymitch, I-"

When her voice broke, I almost had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Rose was crying, or at least starting to. She never did let the tears fall. They just stayed in her eyes making them all shiny.

"-I did it. I know I did, I know that I kept the real Haymitch because I see him all of the time. You might have a big drinking problem, but you have a good heart. You're a good person, Haymitch. And I'm a stupid girl to ever think of you like I do, but I don't want to regret not telling you. I have to go to my aunt and uncle now.'

I didn't try to stop her when she stood and walked away. She came back the next day anyway, fully expecting things to be awkward, but they weren't. We kissed again, only this time it wasn't as unexpected. If a label must be put on it, we eventually became a 'couple.' Neither of us asked the other. The best way I can explain it is that we fell together after growing together over the previous years.

It's funny how the memories don't hurt like they used to. I can think about her and smile, rather than have to down half of a bottle whenever I think of her name. Part of me feels like I should regret everything with her- I'm the reason she was reaped, after all- but the bigger part of me knows that there's no reason to. I was happy, I had a purpose, and most importantly, I have my daughter because of her.

It's hard to believe that I didn't even want Ever at first. Someone should kick me for not wanting that beautiful, wonderful little girl. When Rose first told me about her, I secretly wished she'd just go away. Despite being twenty-five, I wasn't ready to be a father, nor did I ever plan on being ready. Of course I didn't tell Rose this; she was so happy about it and I didn't want to upset her. I spent the next four months just wishing it wasn't true, praying the baby didn't exist. Towards the end of month three I realized that this would really be happening. And I hated it. I hated the fact that my carelessness had gotten her pregnant, that I was just adding another person to my life that the Capitol could use against me. I didn't want the baby; I wanted it to just disappear.

When Rose was sixteen weeks pregnant, she felt the baby kick for the first time. She woke me in the middle of the night to tell me. Needless to say, I was irritated, but Rose was so excited...so I smiled and held her to humor her. Weeks later, when the movements were finally strong enough for me to feel, my feelings changed completely. I was amazed at the idea that the little thing growing inside of her was our baby, that it was half me, and that I helped create it. After I had come to terms with having the baby, I became more involved with Rose's pregnancy. I quit drinking so I could be there mentally and emotionally as well as physically. Good thing, too. Her pregnancy was quite difficult, though not as bad a labor. God, that was horrible. I never want to see a woman give birth again, it was beyond disgusting. How Rose could stand that much pain for that long I don't know. After that, I found it hard to believe that women were the 'weaker sex.'

I was hoping for a girl. Most men want sons, but I was the opposite. My father loved Ania so much, she was his everything, and she was always his little girl no matter how old she was. I wanted to give my daughter that same attention and love. When she was born and we found out that the baby was indeed a girl, I was ecstatic. From the moment I saw her, Ever had me wrapped around her little finger. I almost confessed to Rose about my previous apprehensions over having a baby, but decided against it. I could never tell the mother of my daughter that I wanted our little baby to 'go away,' so I'd decided to make up for it by being a good father.

Whether or not I kept my promise is debatable, but I try, I really do.

A knock at the door interrupts my happy reminiscing. I'm half expecting it to be Peeta or an Everdeen for some reason, but it is a Peacekeeper. The young man hands an envelope to me with few words in explanation. 'From the Capitol.' From the Capitol is never a good thing. The envelope is addressed to my daughter, written in elegant, official cursive. There is no return address, but in its place is the signature of the sender. My blood runs cold. I'd know the signature anywhere.

_Coriolanus Snow._


	85. Will The Circle Be Unbroken

Disclaimer: I still do not own The Hunger Games.

So, school was really crazy at the end of the semester…but also, I was distracted during Eurovision week by Eurovision. France, Italy, San Marino, Serbia, Spain and Croatia were soooo underrated, by the way. Especially France. It's in my head. And I don't speak French.

I've also had writer's block T_T you'll see why later. I'm prepared for the angry reviews, I'm armed with explanations. I'm prepared for flames, but guys. This fic is AU. If you hated AU, you wouldn't' be reading this. So if you do hate this chapter, at least have the decency to login so I can reply with a PM. I don't get angry in PMs- I respond kindly.

A HUGE thank you to Gargambette for being someone awesome to talk to and helping me talk about future plans for this fic, and ensuring that there is one person who won't hate me for what I'm about to do.

* * *

**Will The Circle Be Unbroken**

* * *

_There are loved ones in the glory_  
_Whose dear forms you often miss._

_When you close your earthly story,_

_Will you join them in their bliss?_

_Will the circle be unbroken_

_By and by, by and by?_

_Is a better home awaitin__g_

_In the sky, in the sky?_

_~ Hymn "Will The Circle Be Unbroken"_

* * *

_Haymitch…_

No sane person has ever been pleased to hold something with Coriolanus Snow's signature, especially when that something is an envelope addressed to one's daughter. The autocrat is already trafficking her, what else does he possibly want?

"Ever!"

An exasperated exclamation comes from upstairs, followed by footsteps and the sound of crutches banging against the floor. She comes to the top of the stairs and shouts over the railing, "I was almost asleep! What do you want?"

I hold up the envelope and say with an air of bitterness, "Special delivery from His Monstrosity."

Her face darkens. "What d'you except me to do, walk downstairs?"

"Of course not."

I take a swig from the bottle on the table and walk up the stairs to hand her Snow's letter. For a second, I think that maybe I should leave, but I stay and keep an arm around her while she reads. She takes her time, her eyes moving each word slowly and deliberately until finally, she clenches her teeth and rips the letter in half, swearing like a sailor. A string of foul words falls from her mouth, but I'm not surprised. She's an Abernathy for sure.

"I'm going back to bed," she hisses.

"Oh no you're not, missy. What does it say?"

"Snow is just being a total buttmunch. As usual."

"Ever-" I grab the letter from her and read.

_Dearest Ms. Abernathy,_

_I am sorry to hear of your unfortunate incident involving Mr. Odair and the five Capitol citizens. It is quite a shame that you ended up with amnesia as a result, but rather fortunate that it was only temporary, unlike the fate of the Capitol men whom you and Mr. Odair savagely murdered. Think back and ask yourself how it felt to watch the same man who befriended you in your childhood snap the necks of his fellow men? Did you notice that he enjoyed it? Or were your eyes too full of your own blood to see? _

_It is a pity that you were attacked while walking back from a visit with one of your patrons. The man has asked me to send his regards and well wishes. He was very disappointed that he didn't get to see you again before he left; he hopes to make it up to you next time you are in the city. You are planning on accompanying your victors on the Victory Tour, are you not? It wouldn't be like you to miss a chance to visit your special friend in his home District. I apologize, Ms. Ever, I should know better than to assume that Mr. Odair is your special friends just because you have begun a physically intimate relationship with him. Don't be surprised that I know this. I have eyes and ears everywhere, even among the Victors._

_I do hope that the incident that hospitalized you doesn't happen again. It would be a shame to have to punish Mr. Finnick Odair again. After all, there are now even fewer people left bonding him to his courtesan services than there were previously. _

_-President Coriolanus Snow_

"I told you," Ever hisses through clenched teeth. "He's being a cryptic buttmunch as per usual."

With that, she turns down the hall and stalks to her bedroom on her crutches. I hope she never finds out exactly how Finnick was punished for saving her- she would only blame herself for whatever happened.

I burn the letter in the fireplace in the living room. If everything goes the way that the rest of the rebels and I want it to, Ever won't have to deal with Snow's threats for much longer.

* * *

_Ever…_

_Clickclick. _Flame. I found a cigarette lighter in the city streets a few weeks ago. Pyro as it is, I like playing with lighters, the little flame intrigues me. I occasionally tease some of the younger coal miners about their smoking habits- 'Are you sure you should be around an open flame with all of that coal dust stuck to you?' The comment could be taken badly, but the way I say it is entirely playful and devoid of malice.

_Click. _Flame. Release. Gone.

If only I could make my problems disappear like the flame on a lighter. Maybe the people who smoke marijuana have it right. Light some of the plant on fire, smoke it, and your problems don't exist for a few hours. I laugh, because my father would skin me alive for thinking like that. There's no morphling in District 12, so the only vices to be found in 12 are alcohol, gambling, tobacco cigarettes, and marijuana. Raewyn says that there are all sorts of 'illicit things' in 9, and Finnick says the same for 4, and I know for a fact he's a regular smoker of something of the herbal variety. It's illegal in the Districts, but so are cigarettes and alcohol, but nobody actually minds those laws, not even Peacekeepers, who are among the heaviest users.

Funny, those laws are overlooked just like the hunting laws.

This broken foot needs to heal pronto. I hate not being able to move around, I had being stuck in this stupid house with my dad being drunk half of the time and babying me the other half. At least it means that he cares about me, which is more than I can say about the fathers of some of my classmates, and many of the other victors' kids.

Victor kids tend to be cursed with horrible fathers, especially when their father is a victor. With Brutus as a dad, it's almost no wonder that Aeneas and his older brother turned out to be so foul. Eleazer, one of the victors from 6, has been rumored to hit his sons and call his daughter all sorts of horrible things. Gloss from 1 had a short lived marriage in his earlier twenties, and I heard that it ended because of what he did to their son whom he hasn't seen in years. Cruz, the only ever male victor from District 9, is in his late fifties, and has been married four times and has fathered nearly two dozen children- none of which have lived with him in five years.

At least my dad is just a harmless drunk.

Sometimes, I wonder what it be like to drown all of my memories, worries, and problems with alcohol. I wonder what it would be like to numb the pain by clouding my mind. Whenever I come close to dipping into my father's liquor supply, I just think of how hungover he is and how miserable he is. He doesn't smile much unless he's around me, and even then it's so obviously forced. I'm surprised he hasn't tried making good use of our high banister. I totally wouldn't blame him if he committed suicide; I'm sure he wouldn't blame me either.

Sounds easier, does it not?

~.*~.*~.*

Three days later, a call from the Capitol- Dr. Whatshisuglyface- on Thursday tells me that I can't put any pressure on my foot until at least after Sunday. Screw his rules. I need to find Kenton at the Hob and break this puppy love thing off on Sunday. So what if I mess up my foot even worse? It's not like I have much use for it aside from walking. I don't _exercise _or do anything of the athletic nature.

* * *

_Finnick…_

A science class I took in my childhood taught us about Newton's laws of motion. The third of these laws has been running through my head. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. It's funny how scientific principles can be used to talk about entirely non-scientific incidences.

Annie, for example. As atonement for killing those Capitol men, she died. Was murdered. That was my fault. _I _did that. I may not have pulled that trigger, but _I _killed her.

I unscrew the cap of the second whiskey bottle and chug, spilling some of the amber liquid on the same clothes I wore to the funeral. Swearing, I kick at the sand and cry and shout in rage at Snow, at the world, at myself.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd mistake you for a four-year-old instead of twenty-four."

"Mags," I whimper in between sobs, my face buried in the sand. "Mags."

"It's okay," she whispers, using her cane to lower herself to the sand. "Come here, Finn-o."

"Mags, Mags I-"

"Don't speak," she shushes me. "There is absolutely no shame in crying, or in mourning. Finnick, it's okay. Let it all out my boy."

"I can't do anything right! I can't," I roar, punching the ground in fury. "Annie. Ever. In saving one I sentenced the other to death. I wasn't even there to hold her hand while she died, Mags. I wasn't. There. I should have been there."

Mags says nothing, just holds on to me while I continue to sob. The night is eerily quiet apart from my sobbing- the sea is stiller than it should be, the wind is silent, and even Mags' breathing. When she finally speaks, despite her normal post-stroke garbled speech, her voice is gentle and soothing. "Finnick, I want you to listen to me. I want you to listen closely. Nothing that has happened to either of those girls is your fault. Finnick, when you came across those men hurting Ever in the alley you had no choice but to do what you did. Annie's murder is not your fault. It is not. Your. Fault."

"Mags it is! It is! Great Aegir, Mags! I couldn't protect her and it's all my fault that I failed."

"Finnick, you're drunk."

"I never would have guessed," I snap. "It's my fault, Mags."

"All right. So it is your fault. Would you have done anything differently? Would you have let that little girl be beaten to death?"

"No."

"You can't blame this on yourself, Finn-o. You can mourn, you can cry, you can punch holes in your walls, you can scream. Don't you wallow in your self-loathing. If Snow hadn't murdered Annie now, he'd just do it later and you know that. The moment- the _moment _you became useless to him, he would have killed her. Do you understand that?"

I chug more of the whiskey and screw the cap back on. "Of course I understand that."

"This wasn't your fault."


	86. Brick

Disclaimer: I still do not own The Hunger Games.

Here, we see some focus on the rebellion. ;]

Writer's block, sorry…and life really, seriously got in the way. It's been crazy to say the least. Definitely not the summer I hoped for.

However, I have several chapters WRITTEN on my computer though. They just need editing.

Ever's personality will be darker for a while, but no worries, eventually happiness will eventually happen. LOT'S of Finn in this chapter, very little Ever, actually but next chapter is heavy on the Ever with a sprinkling of Finn and more rebellion!

I have this headcanon that in some Districts, they have a secret District language. 4s is Icelandic. it was going to be French but then I was like "well, in my fic Ocean Breathes Salty it's Icelandic so for continuity's sake…" if you want to know what some of the words mean- they're basic enough that either context, lucky guesses, or even Google translate would give you correct translations of. Or PM me and ask. I do not speak Icelandic, only English and almost intermediate-level Spanish, but I study all sorts of languages for fun and have found credible sources for the phrases I write in.

I had far too much fun writing Finnick's bit and his interaction with his brother and his wife. Amanda and Macklin will be fun to work with!

* * *

**Brick**

* * *

_As weeks went by_

_It showed that she was not fine_

…

_She's a brick and I'm drowning slowly_

_Off the coast and I'm headed nowhere_

_She's a brick and I'm drowning slowly_

_~ Ben Folds Five "Brick"_

* * *

_Ever…_

It's been three weeks and I still haven't left my house. My dad helped me remove the stuff around my foot yesterday. I am to continue to keep off of it as much as I can, but I can now walk short distances without my crutches. Thank goodness for walking- I seem to be coming down with some flu-type thing.

Speaking of…

I groan in annoyance as the feeling wells up in my stomach and stumble from the couch to the downstairs bathroom. As I'm clutching the toilet bowl, gagging but not vomiting, I realize that I can't even remember the last time I ate something. I gag until my dry heaves stop and even then I rest my elbows on the toilet seat and my head in my hands. Swearing, I close my eyes and groan a low, sorrowful groan.

There is a rustling sound coming from the living room. Suppose the old man wasn't actually asleep after all.

"I thought you were passed out," I said when his footsteps reached the bathroom. I didn't mean for it to come out as a whine, but it did.

"Hard to take a nap when you're in here retching your guts out."

"Thanks for your fatherly concern," I lamely joke. "Means a lot."

He presses his hand to my forehead and frowns, meaning he can't feel a fever. "You're not developing an eating disorder, are you?"

"No, no eating disorder. I just keep getting nauseous and having to…you know. It's like I'm sick with the flu, but I'm not having any other symptoms."

The vodka bottle he's holding shatters on the wooden floor, spraying my feet and lower legs with the alcohol. My father tenses up and opens his mouth to utter a rather flat 'oh' that is certainly not about the wasted poison. It's about me and my mysterious ailment.

"What?" I groan, spitting out the saliva that has gathered in my mouth.

"No," he ignores me and goes on talking to himself. "She can't, not my little girl. She can't be- but Rose…no, no, no."

"Daddy _what _are you on about?" I demand. The nausea has passed but I am in no mood to stand on my feet so I settle for turning around and sitting on my bum. Vodka soaks the bottom of my yoga pants and, again, I don't care.

His usually sonorous voice is muted and gentle, also, shaking, when he replies. "Ever think. Think hard. When was the date of your last menstrual-"

"Cheese and crackers, Dad, you are _not _asking me that."

"Nausea, random nausea, with no other symptoms of any logical illness. Your mother-"

"You cannot be suggesting what I think you're suggesting. I'm not pregnant, I'm just not."

"You missed your period."

I choke on my saliva. "How could you possibly know that?"

"I have your cycle memorized so I know when to be nicer than usual. To make it feel less like I map out your menstrual cycle like a creep I call them 'Ever's Bitchy Times.'"

"That is messed up on so many levels," I groan and get back to the main point. "I'm not pregnant."

"Are you positive that all of your sexual encounters are protected? Every one of your sexual partners uses a condom?"

"Oh, father dear never use the word 'condom' again, it's rather unnerving."

I scream as he punches the wall, leaving a hole, and raises his voice. "Ever Elizabeth Abernathy you will answer my question!"

"Yes," I snap. "Yes, okay? They all used…things, especially after Finnick taught me how to take control of the situation."

"And did Finnick?"

"And did Finnick what?"

"Use-"

"Yes," I groan, blushing. "Yes. He was always- _always- _beyond careful with me."

"He better have been," my father growls. "What other explanation is there?"

I pretend to give it some thought, because, honestly, as long as I'm not pregnant I'm cool with anything. "Hm, maybe it's a new plague that will perhaps wipe out one third of Panem's population and I'm patient zero. It sounds fun, does it not?"

"Ever," his voice is full of agony. "Con- okay, fine- the 'c-word-items' aren't always effective. They can break and even if they don't sperm cells are ridiculously tiny and-"

"Sperm, add that to your list of words never to say in front of me."

"My point is," his patience has worn thin. "That just because you use a condom, you aren't, necessarily, guaranteed to not…they can break. How do you think you got here?"

"I just assumed that you had unprotected sex on the place where I put my food."

Although I know that that couldn't possibly be true, seeing his face go red was worth it. No, I know for a fact that unprotected…relations…was the last thing that he would ever have done. He'd already lost his family as a result of his victory, and he knew that being involved with my mom was dangerous, and that having a child (me) would be even more dangerous.

Oh victory, thou art honey on my tongue!

It takes my father a moment or thirty to calm down enough to talk again. "Sweetheart, listen to me. If…you find that you are late for your, um…your thing…you tell me. If you miss it, you know what that means and I- yeah. Actually, ignore everything I just said. Liquor talking, paranoia. It's probably just stress that's making you sick."

~.*~.*~.*

I know that he knows that I didn't buy his quick cop-out. Even so, he left the bathroom, and shortly afterward, I leave. I should be thankful to have a father who worries about me, but right now, I'm just glad he gave up on the whole pregnancy thing. I'm not pregnant and I wish he would stop freaking out. It's just a mystery illness, that's all.

It's not like I've missed my period or anyth-

Screaming, I drop the glass plate I've been holding and stand frozen in realization. My menstrual cycle is meticulously predicted in my planner and the calendar. Given the two day give or take margin of error, I could have miscalculated, but, that hardly matters because if I was to start on the day I predicted, I'm a week late. If I was to start two days after I predicted, I'm five days late.

Five.

Days.

The color is drained from his face when he enters the room, this time, sans a bottle of liquor. He doesn't come to me but stands a few yards away with his arms open; I don't hesitate to run into them and bury my face into his shirt. There aren't any tears; the very notion of them is entirely abhorrent to me right now, and even if it wasn't, I am too stunned to cry. Apparently, conversation doesn't suit my fancy either, because I don't speak and neither does he. He just hugs me and keeps me close to him, his strong arms making a temporary safe haven.

"You figured it out…how?"

Not even flinching, he loosens his grip just a little and says, "I just did."

"Can- can we fix it?"

His body goes rigid and he pulls out of the embrace to move his hand to my shoulders. The look on his face is answer enough. "I'm sorry."

"Can't I…self-induce an abor-"

"Don't even think like that," he hisses. "Don't, all right? This is bad, I'll give you that, but-"

I scowl and push him away. "But? Daddy there are no 'buts' about it! I thought that everything bad that could possibly happen had happened. Never in a million year did I anticipate_this!_ _It_. I want it gone; to get rid of it."

I push past him and stomp upstairs.

* * *

_Haymitch…_

I divorce myself from all emotion. To keep a level head about Ever's situation, I cannot allow for my anger, guilt, shame, or even my instinct to protect her show though a stoic façade. She deserves to be applauded for throwing up her own mask of stoic nonchalance as quickly as she did, though, she's probably sobbing in her bedroom.

Save the tears for the pillow, was my father's advice: advice that I never once passed along to my daughter, though, I'm glad that that is what she's doing, for if I see her breakdown over this, I don't know what I'd do. If Ever cries to me about it, then it becomes real. Right now, I can still reject it. Denial, after all, if used correctly, can be the mind's greatest defense mechanism.

Ever's reaction, _I want it _gone, is the exact same thing that I thought about Ever, at first. Because I knew what kind of life she would have, I was afraid. Because I knew what hell awaited her once she left the safety of Rose's womb, I'd rather she not exist than watch her suffer. Because it is Ever, not me who is living the life that I feared she would, her reaction is the same. She knows all too well what kind of life any child of hers would lead.

At least, she thinks that she knows.

With this dual victory, comes a changing game. Not only do I have to worry about protecting my daughter, but also, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. More important than my personal adjustments, more important than the added burden of two extra teenagers, is Panem itself. Change is coming to Panem and it is coming fast. The one word that not even us key players dare say aloud, dare even whisper, and rarely dare to think is coming.

Revolution.

None of know exactly when, but the puzzle pieces are almost entirely in place, helped along by the growing unrest after the dual victory. Riots in 11 began with the death of Rue. Minor protests in 5 began with the death of their ginger tribute. If any significant events occur in the other Districts allied with the cause, they, the other victors and Capitols like Plutarch, will find ways to communicate word. We always do.

Revolution.

Never has one word carried with it such hope, but also, such promise of death and despair. When the time comes, when the time is right, there will be death and destruction before there is victory, but there _will _be victory. There has to be victory – the people of Panem cannot fail this time, for this time, we are not going to be fighting over too high taxes, slave labor, and a burdensome government. This time, we will be fighting for control of the government, fairness, equality, and most of all the abolishment of the Games and other facets of Snow's empire. The time to rebel is coming. Coriolanus Snow _will _fall, that isn't up for debate. The question is when.

People will die, families will once again be torn apart by war, but I swear to every deity that may or may not exist that I will do everything in my power to protect those kids. Ever, Katniss, Peeta. They will make it through whatever is to come if I have anything to do with it. It is for this reason that I cannot allow myself to mourn Ever's latest tragedy until she needs me to join her. I have to shove it all into a secret, hidden room in my mind and lock the door, because it isn't just my child that I'm looking out for, but somebody else's children. I may not be in danger of winning any father of the year awards, but I'll be damned if I don't at least make an effort to protect those kids.

The victors of District 12…a drunk and three teenagers, how 'exciting.'

* * *

_Finnick…_

I hate Plutarch Heavensbee with every fiber of my being. For the cause of Panemian freedom, I am willing to forsake anything, go anywhere, and do anything, and therein lies my grievance. There is someone whom I detest almost as much as the president himself, and sometimes, I hate him more. A man who can and will dredge dirt from my past that I'd rather keep buried. A man whom I am electing to visit for the first time in seven years. For the past seven years, our interactions have been family-centric- our cousins' weddings, births of babies (except his, because Aegir forbid that they meet their murderous Uncle Finnick), our father.

The man is none other than Macklin Odair, appointed head of the largest of District 4s fishing corporations, Bardem-Cardena, and my older brother.

Plutarch's message was clear, despite using three different methods of disguising his correspondence- written Morse, invisible ink, and a cleverly worded note. Basically, my mission is to lie, cheat, steal, use his children against him if that is what it takes to convince my big brother to join the rebel cause. The importance of getting Macklin Odair and the other head honchos of the fishing industry to ban together for this cannot be understated, according to Plutarch.

I straighten my tie (Great Aegir he hates wearing suits!) and ring the doorbell. Fully expecting one of the two maids to get the door, I'm quite stunned when my brother's wife answers with a horrified gasp. Immediately, she tries to slam the door in my face, but I stick my foot out to prevent that from happening.

I click my tongue in unabashed condescension, curve my lips in a playful grin, and speak in my seductive Capitol purr. "Amanda, it would make both our days much nicer if you didn't do that."

"Get out," hisses my sister-in-law. "Before I tell my husband."

"Your husband," I purr, making eye contact with her. "Is exactly who I came to see."

Amanda's cheeks blush red as she presses her body against the door in an effort to keep my foot out. Macklin thinks that the reason that such a feud exists between us in my victory, and to his credit, that is the main reason. What my brother doesn't know is that his wife has (at least, in the past _has had_) a habit of making passes at me. Purposely, in an effort to preserve my brother's marriage, I've maintained the distance that Macklin had forced between us. Amanda is attractive, I'll give the raven-haired woman that, but nothing short of saving the human race could get me to sleep with her.

However, my moral rules don't mean that I can't have fun flirting with her to get through the door.

"Mandy," I bite my lip and maintain eye contact. "I'm just here to speak with Mack."

I haven't seen her in nearly two years, but it seems that the long separation hasn't hindered her lust. Her body languages says it all- 'my bedroom's that way,' say her eyes; 'I can't even tell you what sort of things I'm thinking out,' says the way she's standing; 'wonder what you look like naked,' says her tongue as it moves across her bottom lip; 'you look like a damn good shag,' says her lip bite.

_Disgusting, _I lick my lips and wink at her. "Please?"

Her pupils are dilated, her breathing has sped up, and I've done my job. "Of- of course," Amanda, successfully manipulated, stammers and moves aside to let me over the threshold.

"Thank you," I say, grasping one of her hands in gratitude but holding it longer than appropriate for a touch of appreciation. _Putty in my hands, _I think. The best way to get Macklin on my side is to charm the hell out of his wife. Everyone knows that Amanda is the voice, quite literally, whispering in his ear about everything. Charm her, and she'll, however blindly, insist that my brother cooperate.

By cooperate, I mean not kick me out of his home.

She leads me to the sitting room. "Mack is upstairs."

"Working?" I guess.

Amandanods and sharply turns her attention to the doorway and mouths something. The message doesn't get through to the intended recipient in time for it to be obeyed. Instead of seeing nothing but a potted plant, I see a mop of tight coffee curls on a little girl's head. The little girl ignores her mother's orders to go back to her room, and so do her two brothers who come trailing behind her. Their mother quickly gives up on kicking them out and asks if I would like some tea.

I maintain my seductive act just long enough to say 'tea would be lovely, thank you' before I feel a strange tug at my heart when I turn to look at the kids. They're Macklin's, obviously; they've got all of the Odair characteristics. These aren't all of Mack's kids- last I heard, he had five- but it's the fact that I don't even know their names.

Tentatively I lean forward in the armchair and wave to them. "Hi."

The girl, not older than six or seven, smiles and approaches me. I've seen Amanda pregnant at many of our erratic run-ins, but I never do get to find out the children's names. I suppose I could just ask my father, but, he knows that I don't like talking about Mack. Seeing three of his kids is pretty surreal.

Despite not knowing the names of most of my nieces and nephews, I'm positive that I know this girl's name. "Apollonia, but everyone just calls you Polly, am I right?"

"Yeah," giggles the girl. "But who're you, mister? Are you that guy that we see on TV?"

_Of course, _I frown. They would know my face from the television, maybe my name, but I highly doubted that my brother would tell them about their relationship to me and Polly has just confirmed my hunch. "Yeah, I'm the guy you see on TV. But I'm going to tell you a secret, you can't tell anybody, okay Polly?"

Polly nods and points to her brothers. "Can Lexer and Erasmus hear?"

"They sure can," I say. "Are you ready?"

The boys, appearing to be five and three, stand with Polly in anticipation. "I'm your Uncle Finn. I'm your Daddy's little brother."

What I love about children is that they question things, but also, they don't pay attention much to detail. Polly, Lex, and Ras don't question that I am who I say I am. They don't mention that their dad never mentioned Uncle Finn before. They simply smile, hug me, and ask if I like to play hide and seek. 'Maybe later,' I tell them. 'Okay?' They babble on about the things children babble about and eventually Polly decides that she's tired of standing and hops into my lap.

"That was rather presumptuous," I chuckle as Polly nestles in to my chest. She reminds me of Little Ever. Up until she was around eight, she'd hop into my lap uninvited and often fall asleep with her head burrowed into my chest. My niece will eventually grow up, just like my friend did, and frankly, the thought of it makes me a little blue.

The air in the room changes and I can tell that another body has entered the room. Judging by the distinct absence of tea items clanging together, it isn't Amanda, so it can only be "Mack, it's been awhile."

The venom in his voice could kill and elephant. "Get your filthy hands off of my daughter."

_You and Abernathy would get along well. _"But brother dear," I make a puppy face. "Polly, the boys and I are getting along so well."

The elder Odair glares at the four of us. "Go to your rooms."

"Yes Papa," Polly sighs, leading her brothers away.

The room is silent as Mack and I stare each other down, him with disgust, me with indifference. It isn't until Amanda tiptoes in with the tea that my brother's gaze softens. The son of a sea urchin actually thought that I broke into his house to screw with his kids? No wonder we don't get on. Wordlessly, Amanda pours tea for the three of us and even adds the sugar.

"Finn," Mack's baritone drones. "It's been seven years since you've come to call. I don't recall seeing you for...what, a year now?"

"Two," I correct. "I assure you it was intentional."

My brother grips his teacup as if it is the only thing keeping him from jumping up and snapping my neck- though, I'd like to see him try. He may have nine years, four inches, and a few pounds on me, but as he is always _ohsoquick _to point out, I've killed people. Mack shifts uncomfortably in his armchair and looks from me to his tea to Amanda and back to me.

"Why are you here?"

"To ask a favor."

As expected, he isn't exactly pleased. "Like hell, brother! What could you possibly want from me?"

"Your loyalty."

"You're lying."

"I assure you I'm not."

"Preposterous," he snaps. "Have you been using drugs again? What is it this time, heroin, meth, cocaine, cannabis…are we dropping acid …or is it a combination?"

As I feared, dredging up my fairly recent past. "I am not the one in need of your loyalty, Macklin Claiborne. If I can be straight with you big brother, even if I needed it, I wouldn't ask for it. There are people whose loyalties I do have and I'm much better off with them."

"Murderers much like you, Finnick Loren," Mack sneers. "I trust that you aren't misinterpreting my superciliousness for anything less than what it is."

"You are making your contempt for me quite clear," I assure him. "Thank you for clarifying."

"Smartass," the corners of us lips curl into a grin for a split second before falling back to a scowl. "All right, then. If it isn't you then who is it?"

"I'm afraid that I am not at liberty to say," I sip my tea without breaking eye contact and set the cup back in the saucer. "But if you would just hear me out I am sure I can convince you. I will warn you, though. Mack...stóri bróðir…it isn't just your loyalty that you would be giving over, but your entire life. The knowledge of what I am planning on telling you is deadly but I swear on… on Móðir's grave…you won't regret hearing it."

"Ég skil það ekki," he utters warily.

"Þú munt," I promise. "You will."

There it is, the District language. It is the last remnant of a dead culture, the language that not all residents of 4 speak, but those who do hold it sacred. In our childhood, Mack and I communicated almost entirely in the language. I threw in the words 'big brother' and 'mother' to open him up to the possibility of listening- we Odairs have always been a sentimental bunch.

Amanda glances at him as if to demand that he listen then excuses herself to make sure that the children are in their rooms. We wait until she returns to continue.

"Let me get this straight, Finn. You, the person I trust least in this world, are about to tell me information that I could die for knowing. On top of that you request my loyalty on behalf of another person who I cannot meet or even know the name of?"

"Yes, but I know that you are going to hear me out."

"How?"

I smirk and fold my arms across my chest as our matching green eyes attempt to bore holes into each other's souls. "Because I am not the person you trust the least, brother dear. On the contrary I am the one you trust above and beyond all others. Your disdain for me is unmistakable, but your distrust? No, not even my big brother can fake that. You trust me more than anybody else which is precisely why I am still sitting here drinking your wife's tea. You've missed me."

"Excellent deduction," mumbles the elder. "All right, Finn. Shoot."

"Your house staff is off today, yes?"

"Yes."

I stare at him while I think of the best way to approach this. It's not like I can come out and say 'hey bro, a bunch of us are plotting to overthrow the government sometime soon and we totally need you in on it because you and your buddies control about one third of District 4's fishing supply, and if you join us it might cost you your life as well as the lives of your wife and children, but that's okay because it's sure going to be fun kicking Lanus Snow's butt!'

Plutarch sent me into this situation knowing full well that if Mack decides not to join us, he can squeal and send this whole operation crashing down around us and resulting in our executions. In his message he mentioned something about having eyes on my brother and the other head honchos of the fishing industry that had him convinced that if approached he would join us. Narcissistic as it sounds, the future of my country rests on my shoulders.

"Polly will be eligible for the reaping before you know it," I sigh sadly and think about the last little girl I watched reached reaping age. "Then your boys, Lex and Rasmus, and what about that girl you got pregnant in eleventh grade…your twins are fifteen, are they not? Mack, if I remember correctly, the total number of children you have with Amanda is…five."

"Six," he corrects. "Don't remind me of the reaping you arse. The thought of any of my children ending up like, like…"

"Like me," I supply without venom. "A killer, a druggie, a whore. I get it, man…I get it. Mack, what if I told you that soon, you may never have to worry about the reaping again?"

"You would be lying."

"You're positive?"

"Something tells me that you are about to make me question my entire existence," he jokes blandly.

"I have been involved in something for five years now. Victors from many other Districts, a group of Capitol citizens including a few Gamemakers, stylists, and sponsors, and other important District citizens are part of a secret organization meant to…to over…over throw the government of Panem."

The shock on the thirty-two year old's face is priceless. It's as if I can hear his thoughts, 'twenty-three and still and idiot, that boy is!' but then they change to, 'this cause is noble, but-' "Finnick! What you are talking about is-"

"Treason," I interrupt. "Yes, it is the ultimate act of treason, but treason is nothing if not a made up charge for the winners to punish the losers. Mack this is revolution! Revolution is happening right under your nose and you don't even know it. I am giving you the opportunity to join us. Lay aside your contempt for me, put away this childish sibling rivalry for the greater good. Isn't it worth Polly never facing the evil that is Reaping Day?"

"How do you expect this to work, Finnick? The Hunger Games exist because our people rebelled in the past and failed. What makes this underground operation any different?"

"I'm so glad you asked," my hands make a finger pyramid as I explain. "Seventy-five years ago, the rebels were bringing knives to a gun fight. Those early rebels were butthurt over taxes, indentured servants, and other grievances that, yes, were horrible, but were not quite atrocities. Today we have the Games. Twenty-four children are killed each year- victor? Hardly. All twenty-four children die in that arena, Mack. The victor comes home a damn poor facsimile of who they used to be. Some are lucky enough to gain most of their old selves back, but the child that enters the arena dies there and somebody else is sent home in their body. Peacekeepers are allowed to wreak havoc in the Districts…if you think they're hard asses here, you should here what my friends from 9 have to say. You should hear the stories from 7, or from Haymitch from 12. The Peacekeepers in 12 are lenient now, but in his childhood, you could be beaten to death for making a funny face as you passed by one. The Capitol citizens feast and party while we starve and waste away. Women in District 9 and the property of their fathers and husbands, oh Mack, if only you could hear the things that Raewyn and Erianwen have told me!

"Not only do we have atrocities going on around us, but the rebels…we have a secret. This secret just might be the difference between victory and defeat."

Mack clears his throat and relaxes his posture. "What is this…secret?"

I shake my head regretfully. "Unfortunately I am not privy to the secret. If our organization had ranks, I am one of the top-ranked, but not everyone knows everything. However, the Gamemaker spearheading this all, the man on whose behalf I am begging for your loyalty, he knows and he has convinced people that I would trust with my life that this secret is worth betting on. Not only the secret, but we have at least one Victor from almost every District, the mayors of two Districts, Head Peacekeepers of three Districts involved, the Deputy Heads of one of those and one other, numerous Peacekeepers from all, Capitol servants, politicians, Peacekeepers for the Capitol, a relative of the president's, some of the Capitol's richest citizens, the heads of 11s grain industry, 10s meat industry, and District 6s medical industry…Mack this has been brewing since before we were born. We don't know when this whole operation will explode and become out in the open, we don't. But it is happening. Our spearhead is sure that it will happen within the decade. Gætirðu bróðir…please brother."

The color is drained from his face once he realizes how big this operation is. "Finnick, you realize that the amount of information you've given m-"

"Can get me executed if you and Amanda turn me in, yes."

"Why share so much? Why not be more cryptic?"

"You aren't the first person I've talked to, not by a longshot. I've known you for twenty-three years; you're more predictable than a cheesy romance novel. With other people, cryptic messages were a must. With you, they would be unnecessary."

Mack runs his hands through his dark curls in frustration and closes his eyes. "May I ask who this Gamemaker has convinced? Of the secret that, despite your being in the dark, has convinced you put your faith in this cause…who's knowledge are you betting your life on?"

"Beetee of 3, Seeder of 11, and Haymitch of 12."

"Haymitch," laughs Macklin. "The drunk? Fine choice, brother!"

I glare at him, instantly becoming fiercely protective of the man who is more than 'just a drunk,' the man who helped Mags help me through those first years post victory, the man who raised Ever, the man that I admire because without a second thought, would do anything for his daughter. "Haymitch Abernathy is an intelligent man, Macklin. When he's sober, the man is my mentor just as much as Mags is. You'd probably be a drunk too if you survived the arena, had to watch two kids from you home die every year including the mother of your child, and then watched that child live through the same hell only to have her be forced into the victor sex trafficking ring like nearly _everyfuckingoneis _and live with the fact that there is nothing, absolutely nothing that you can do about it."

"Oh!" Amanda gasps.

It appears that I've stunned my big brother yet again. "Finn what are you saying?"

"Exactly what you think I'm saying."

"Those Capitol women, the gossip about you…it's because of…"

I let out a mirthless laugh at his eureka moment. "Do you honestly think that I would have sex with those people on purpose…middle-aged housewives with starved sexual appetites…women whose skin is dyed different colors…with fetishes and fantasies that make my stomach churn and bile rise in my throat? _Men_, Mack. Men. I mean, if sex with other guys is what floats your boat then that's okay, but it sure as flounder don't float mine. Oh but the fetishes, the fantasies…the salacious, reputation killing tales I could tell. Perhaps, one day, I will."

"I didn't know," Amanda whispered.

"Nor did I," my brother says apologetically.

"Of course you didn't."

"I don't understand, Finn. Why do they need…me?"

I flash him the toothiest, most mirthful grin I can manage. "You control about one third of the fishing industry. Do you realize what that means? Honestly, I don't need to spell it out you- there ya go!- I can see the gears turning, can't you, Mandy…that's rhetorical, please don't answer."

Mack's sea green eyes go from confused, to contemplative and then to understanding before, finally, resting on dawning acceptance. "Oh," he breathes. "Oh, Finnick."

"Yes."

"But the other two corporations-"

"One is being covered by the Head Peacekeeper," I assure him. "The other is a tricky spot, but Bardem-Cardena and the one the HP is sweet-talking are the ones we need. Jill will come tumbling after."

"Finnick, this is so convoluted. This is dangerous, foolish, lofty…but genius, possible, revolutionary! Little brother, I- what do you need?"

"At the moment," I sip the last of my lukewarm tea and look between by brother and Amanda. "Nothing. You would carry on as usual and wait for messages. Do not look for them, do not anticipate. You will know when you receive one and trust me on that. We use combinations of codes, ciphers, signals, and puzzles. Four is one of the easiest Districts to get messages in and out because our Head Peacekeeper and many of his underlings are on our side. That is what you will do. You will keep calm, carry on, and wait. But the question isn't 'what do you do,' but '_will you join us._' Do it not for me, not for yourself, but for your children. Do it for Panem. When I came here, I told that it was to ask for your loyalty. Mack, the rebels and I aren't the only ones needing your loyalty. It's Panem. This grand treason isn't treason against Panem, but long overdue retribution for what we've suffered these past seventy-five years. This crusade against Snow and his evils are just that- a crusade against Snow and his evils. Nothing is more patriotic than freeing our people from this dictatorship, _nothing. _So the question remains. Will you join us?"

Amanda finishes her tea and looks to my brother. Mack sits upright and his neither his voice nor his eye contact falters when he says, "It would seem that I have no other choice but to join this rebellion. When this does explode into the public eye, people will die. Children will be lost, orphans and widows will be made…but such is war."

"War?" Amanda gasps.

"Yes," we brothers say in unison.

"This can only lead to war," I add, and Mack nods in agreement.

For the first time in nearly a decade, my brother feels like my brother again. The rift between us seems to have grown smaller. One day I will thank Plutarch, but it is not this day. Mack and I exchange a few more words before I announce that I really should be on my way. As I head toward the door, he grips my shoulder so hard that I turn on my heel to him.

"Finny," he says, barely audible, voice shaking. "I didn't know about…all of…everything…you-"

I laugh at him lightheartedly. "Hush, Macks. Macks, sentiment and apologies were never your strongpoints. Your unarticulated apologies are just fine, big brother. It's the sincerity that counts, not the eloquence."

* * *

I imagine Mack Odair with a really deep voice like Alan Rickman, except more like Benedict Cumberbatch's voice xD And of course, really attractive like Finn is.


	87. When The World Comes Down

Disclaimer: I still do not own The Hunger Games.

Ever is **very anti-baby** at the moment, so the way she talks about her pregnancy might make some of you cringe or shake your heads disapprovingly- it was tough for me to write because I love children, and babies, but eventually Ever will grow to be less hateful.

Katniss-Ever interaction soon! This chapter is uneventful, short, but necessary.

Three week time skip.

* * *

**When The World comes Down**

* * *

_You can sit beside me when the world comes down, _

_If it doesn't matter then just turn around._

_Will you be the queen? And I'll be your clown_

_You can sit beside me when the world comes down._

_~ AAR "Mona Lisa"_

* * *

_Finnick…_

I glance over the latest piece of rebel correspondence, pleased at the writer's level of cryptologic know-how. This note was written by Gallia Oliverius, Capitolite, and wife of the Director of Intelligence. It is through Gallia that we've learned of the existence of other nations- few and far between and most with the same isolationist policies as Panem- and often where we get our information about the Capitol.

On the surface, her little note seems like another dreadful love poem from a Capitol housewife to Finnick Odair:

Dearest Finnick, (two word greeting- first letter of second line is the first letter of the message)

Your absence. (period- the rest will take some thinking but will follow a pattern, possibly revolving around multiples of two…maybe three if the punctuation counts as a word, which, often it does)

Breaks my heart into the smallest pieces

Sorrow, deep, unrequited hellish sorrow. (period on third line- the last word in the not rhyming poem is the last word of the code)

The sky is colorless

My heart curls like burning paper.

Aegir Almighty, poor Gallia had to force herself to write this junk…all right, code, code. Last word paper, first letter of first word B, every second or third letter makes the rest, and no two letters beside each other can be used together unless it is a double letter- like two Ts, two Es, two Os.. B-? Paper. B…BE. BETW. EE. N. BETWEEN THE.

BETWEEN THE PAPER.

"Oh," I gasp breathlessly, running into my kitchen to find a thin sharp blade. The real message is hidden between what must be two sheets of cotton paper, stuck together with a solution concocted by Wiress. Giving up on my search for a blade, I tear off the top left corner with my teeth and pry the pages apart to get to the real message, a seemingly blank page. I hold it up to the light above the kitchen table and read the real message- written Morse.

...- .. -.-. - - .-. ... / .- .-. . / - - / .. -. - . .-. .- -.-. - / .-. ..- -... .-.. .. -.-. .-.. -.- / .- ... / .-.. .. - - .-.. . / .- ... / .-. - ... ... .. -... .-.. . / - ... .. ... / ...- .. -.-. - - .-. -.- / - - ..- .-. / - - ... . .-. / - ... .- -. / -.-. .- ... ..- .- .-.. .-.. -.- / ... - ... - .. -. -. .-.-.- / ..- -. .. - -.- / .. -. / -.. .. ... - .-. .. -.-. - ... .-.-.- / -... .- -.. .-.-.- / .. - .-. - .-. - .- -. - / - - / - .- .-.. -.- / .- .. - ... / ... . .- .-.-.- / .- ... / .- .-.. .- .- -.- ... -..- / -.-. - .- .-. .-. .- .-.-.-

Victors are to interact publicly as little as possible this victory tour other than casually hosting. Unity in Districts. Bad. Important to talk with HGA. As always, COWPPA.

HGA: Haymitch G. Abernathy

COWPPA: Carry On, Wait Patiently, and Prepare to Act.

The double victory is a sign of rebellion, and the victors being buddy-buddy won't be good for Snow, so I'll have to talk to Haymitch super clandestinely. Committing the message to memory, I take the envelope and all papers that came with it and burn them in the fireplace along with Mack's note:

Cillian Bachmann (Bardem-Cardena ) and (and) his sister Lana (Lewiston) are getting along nicely (both on board) with Polly (with this rebellion), thank you (good luck) for the schoolyard advice, kid (little brother).

I pour myself another glass of whiskey and grimace at the amber liquid between sips. If I'm not careful, I'll be the next Haymitch- now that's what I call a scary thought. I finish off the glass an pour a third just before the phone rings.

Odd, people don't usually call from the Capitol on a Tuesday. "Finnick Odair, do try not to faint."

* * *

_Ever…_

It's been three weeks, and my dad says that I can't be more than a month and a half along, but I can't shake the feeling that, somehow, everybody _knows_. Katniss knows, so do her mother and sister. The week after I found out, Prim and Delilah paid us a visit, armed with cookies and small talk. During a conversation with Prim about why we like rainy days, I felt like I was going to get sick and ran into the bathroom. Mrs. Everdeen is the closest thing to a doctor we have in District 12, and regardless of my warning look, my dad told her.

Briefly I explained what I do in the Capitol- 'Basically I'm a sex slave for middle-aged men and there isn't a thing I can do about it. So don't have sex, because sex makes babies.'- and much to my surprise neither of them were judgmental. I'm supposed to stop by the Everdeens' at least once a week for Delilah to make sure I'm all right and give me to chance to talk to be about awkward body changes. Apparently, being pregnant doesn't just mean you get mega hormonal and a little chubby.

I hate this. I hate the shame, the fear, and the self-consciousness. I hate this _thing _growing inside me. Who gave it permission, anyway? For the sake of all that's good and holy, the last thing that I ever wanted was to have a baby. Maybe I can just hide out at home for the next eight and a half months or so, especially now that the Kenton thing was taken care of at the Hob last Sunday. (Mutual, apparently. Thank goodness.) Hiding out would be fantastic, if only Daddy would let me.

_You need sunlight,_ he said. _You will leave this house at least once a day._

I don't want to leave the house. I don't want to deal with the triviality that is social interaction. Daddy said that I had to leave the house. He never said that I had to leave Victor's Village. So here I sit, in the grass out front of our house ripping wildflowers to shreds because sunlight is 'good for me.'

"I hate sunlight almost as much as I hate you," I growl, glancing at my flat stomach. "Who in the world told you that you could show up, huh? The sperm donor was probably some middle-aged pervert, or even worse, my dad's friend-with-benefits's ex-husband. I highly doubt it's my friend. You'd be a bit more welcome if it was him because then I'd know it's not some kind of devil spawn. I'd still hate you. I'd still try to think of how to get rid of you, make no mistake."

Unbridled anger fills my heart and mind so completely that I don't notice the tears until they've clouded my vision. Being completely alone out here has an advantage; I don't have to hide the tears. I keep on crying and muttering curses at the thing inside of me until a familiar hand squeezes my shoulder. Dad's back from Peeta's early. This must mean that the lucky jerk's post arena trauma is improving.

He doesn't talk, not until I stand up and throw my arms around him, but even then all he says is 'let's get you inside.' Instead of sending me up to my room and leaving me be, he situates himself on the edge of my bed and says perhaps the three most comforting words I've heard:

"Sweetheart, I know."

* * *

_Haymitch…_

I heard Ever shouting at her little problem from down the street. I wasn't fazed by a thing that I heard, after all, she is me fifteen years ago. Every last thing that she is thinking and feeling, I felt: the rancor she is feeling for this nameless, faceless, massless _thing_, the fear of realizing that in a few short months she will be responsible for a little person, the anger at herself and whoever the father is for making this mistake happen, the desire to _get rid of it take it away already, holyhellRosewhy?Idon'twantit. _

Rose always knew that I wasn't as excited as she was; however, she wasn't privy to the ugly, nasty things that I thought…not until she was. I could live a thousand lifetimes and still never have deserved her. My Rose Fairchild was a stronger woman than her youthful, delicate appearance led a man to believe. Under the influence of just short of an entire bottle, I shouted at three months pregnant Rose until my throat was sore. I hurt her, physically hurt her. I blacked out and remember little else, but not once do I remember her crying or shouting back. When I woke the next morning, she was asleep beside me as if nothing happened.

:-:

_"I can get rid of it," Rose said to me when she woke up. "You…last night. I can fix it."_

_"No," I said with finality. The abortion methods they employ in the Districts are dangerous at best, deadly at worst, and usually ineffective. "Rose, no."_

_"Haymitch," she started, running her fingers through her hair. I didn't let her finish her thought when I noticed the fresh bruise on her arm._

_"Rose," I said with pained urgency. "What did I do to you?"_

_She waved her hand dismissively. "Accidents, Haymitch. You just grabbed on a little harder than necessary is all."_

_Disgusted with myself, I flinched away when she tried to touch me. "I got physical, Rose. I…I gave you bruises. Did I hit you, Rose?"_

_"No," she said in the same even, gentle tone she always used. "You shouted a ton, and you grabbed me but let go. You didn't hit me, shove me, or anything like that. Haymitch, I didn't know that you were so angry about this. I'm sorry."_

_"Don't you dare apologize. Rose, it's not you at all. It's-"_

_Disregarding my attempts to flinch away, Rose moved closer until I had no choice but to touch her and hold onto her. "I know, Haymitch. I hear you talk in your sleep every night. Are you forgetting that I'm the one lying next to you during the nightmares?"_

_"I'm sorry about last night," I sighed, loathing myself. "Rose, don't take the stuff I said seriously. Don't go and risk your life to get rid of the…the…it."_

_"It's making you unhappy."_

_"Losing you would make me even more unhappy," I pulled her closer and tucked her head under my chin. "Rose Fairchild, don't you let anything I say ruin your happiness. I promise you that I'll be okay with it one day."_

_"When, though? Tomorrow…six weeks…five months…five years?"_

_"Soon, Rose. Soon, I promise."_

:-:

"Sweetheart, I know."

Ever finally looks up from her lap, her eyes red and shiny with tears, and stares at me until say something else.

"I hated you too," I tell her bluntly. "I wanted you to go away; I didn't want it to be real. I was able to deny that it was happening for a time, but when your mom started _looking _pregnant I couldn't deny it anymore. I had to stop being pretending that I could change it."

"You," Ever says deadpan. "Were not the one that had have a thing living inside of you. Unlike you I don't have the luxury of denial."

"I know, but you know what? I love you more than anything. You're the best thing that has or ever will happen to me. Ever, it turned all right."

"You are wrong," Ever whispers. "I'll never love it, not with the knowledge that the father is some…some pedophile. Daddy, I'm not just your kid, I'm Rose Fairchild's kid. You loved her."

"Okay, I'll give you that," I agree. "Ever, listen. You are the best part of my life, but when I first found out that you were going to happen, I wasn't happy. Sweetheart, you are me fifteen years ago. Now you're just fourteen, and you're scared, and you have every right to be, but don't you dare feel like you're alone."

She snorts and glares up at me. "I _am _alone. What other pregnant teenagers do you know?"

"You aren't going through it alone. I'm here, I always am. Ever I was twenty-six when we had you…I can't imagine what it's like being as young as you are, but you aren't alone. You have me. Have you even called Fishboy and told him, yet?"

Ever slides away from me and vehemently says, "I doubt that he's the-"

"Regardless of who provided the other half of DNA," I cut in. "He's your friend. Friends tell each other things, especially the pair of you. You know that nothing you could say to him would make him turn against you; that man adores you."

"What good would telling him do? It's not like he can fix it."

"He's your friend," I repeat with finality. "Call him."

"Is that an order?"

"Tempered suggestion."

* * *

_Ever…_

I hate my stupid father and his stupid tempered suggestions, but as much as I hate to admit it, he's right. Reluctantly I tiptoe to the telephone and dial Finnick's number.

"Finnick Odair, do try not to faint," comes the slightly slurred greeting.

"You conceited prick," I say. "You're drunk."

"Not yet, my dear, but getting there. More importantly, what's wrong?"

I get defensive and hesitate before answering with, "Something has to be wrong?"

On the other end of the line I hear him move something- a chair, maybe- and adjust himself into a more comfortable position. "Yes, because you only call when something is wrong and you need Finnick to fix it…what's up, hon?"

Afraid of what he might say, I fall silent until I manage to choke out a few words. "F-Finn…it's not something you can fix…this time."

"Wha'hapnd? Ever," the combination of the alcohol and fear makes his Four accent much thicker than I've heard it before. "Are ya all'ri?"

"That depends on your definition of all right," I let out with a nervous laugh.

"What's wrong?"

"You might want to sit down if you're standing," I stall.

My stalling must have given it away judging by the silence on his end. There's nothing but the sound of his breathing, heavier, more panicked than usual. "Please tell me that this is some sort of sick joke. You can't be…"

"Nearly two months so my dad says."

"Y-you're telling me because..." Finn's shaky voice finishes his thought for him.

"Not the reason you're thinking. You're my friend, I just thought I'd let you know."

"What can I do to help?"

"There isn't anything that you can possibly do," I tell him.

Finnick must be pulling his hair out right now. "I'm…I'm so sorry, hon. I didn't think…didn't anticipate this ever happening to you, at least until you were older."

I laugh sardonically and stare at my flat abdomen. "The universe has other plans, ones that involve me starting a pregnancy at fourteen. The joys of motherhood, you know? Getting sick at random hours, hating your existence, the usual."

"There's nothing I can do to fix it?"

"Get the damn thing out of me and get rid of it," I blandly murmur. "So, no."

"You're too young."

"Yes, I realize."

"Ever," he all but shouts. "You realize that your age is a risk factor, yes?"

"Way to be comforting."

He sighs, moans, and I can almost swear that I hear a sniffle. "I'm worried about you."

"When are you not?"

"It's worse now."

We stay in silence for a while until I recall what my father told me about Annie Cresta. "Finnick. Finn, I'm sorry about-"

"Don't apologize for something that isn't you fault."

"But the alley, the men-"

"If they killed you, I still would have killed them, and I still would have been punished in the exact same way."

I don't reply and again, there is a fairly long silence.

"I want to punch the bastard who did this in this face," he hisses. "And a few other places."

"Getting overprotective, are we?"

Finally, he chuckles sincerely. "I'm always overprotective with you…do you know when you're supposed to…you know, let the thing escape your …body?"

"Katniss's mom estimates sometime around the Games, so maybe I'll just stay in 12."

"No," Finn says a bit harshly. "Come to the Capitol, especially if it hasn't…escaped. At least in the Capitol we can get you to a hospital with pain medicine."

"I don't want to do this."

"I know, Ever love. Believe me when I say that I get it. You will be all right, though, I promise you that you will be."

Skeptic, I press him a bit. "Are you willing to swear on it?"

"I swear on my life."

"That's not good enough," I state. We're victors of the Hunger Games. We both know that we don't value our lives all that much. At best, we value them just too little to be considered normal and social acceptable.

"On yours."

My life doesn't matter _quite _that much to me but to him it apparently does. I want to press him and say 'no' to that, too, but decide against it.

"All right."

His end of the line is quiet for a short time until "Ever. I love you, okay? I love you, and you're going to be just fine. This situation sucks badly but you survived The Hunger Games for Aegir's sake! If you can do that, you can make it through this. Hey, maybe your dad isn't useless after all. Be safe, hon. If you can think of anything I can do, do not hesitate."

"I love you too, Finn."

* * *

_Haymitch..._

Twenty-six-year-old Haymitch is so far away from almost-forty-one Haymitch. That was fifteen years ago- approximately, approximately-ish- but I remember every detail of my twenty-sixth year. That was the year that my semi-happy world came crashing down only to be rebuilt and then torn down again. Funny, truly, how it all happened in a matter of a year and some extra months. Funnier, still, how the changes are all link to one person.

Rose Fairchild, the girl who slithered her way into my life like a snake, made every day worth living. Sometimes if I was lucky she was even enough to drive the nightmares away. I don't think that I'll ever be able to express how important that woman was. Is. Will always be. To be honest I might have offed myself a long time ago had it not be for her and her annoying persistence. Rose found pieces of me that I had thought I had lost, pieces that she always knew were there, simply hidden. Rose made me laugh. She made me laugh so honestly, so genuinely, so long, that I cried. Her patience never once ran out. In spite of all of those horrible things that I said, her kindness was constant. She was the first person that I can say that I loved, and damn me if I wasn't hopelessly in love with the girl. Her elder brother, Raphael, never did approve. I told Rose that I wasn't any good for her, but still.

Then there was the baby. The baby that I hated, that I wanted gone. She was so excited and to this day, I regret not sharing in her excitement. For me, it felt like the end of the world. Until she was born.

I remember the exact moment that she went from being 'some thing inside of my Rose' to 'my little girl.' For the first time, I felt...complete. For a moment, I actually thought that Coriolanus Snow would let me have my happiness.

How naive I was.

No, Rose had to be reaped.

She could have won, she got so, so far. But she didn't win.

Instead it was her ally, the clever blonde from District 9, who triumphed in the end. Even before I met that year's victor personally she had my utmost respect. The blonde did everything in her power to protect Rose, and once her death became imminent, she did everything she could to take the pain away.

Again, I might have just offed myself...except, there was the baby. Our baby. Her baby. Ever. My Ever was my reason for living. I loved her more than I hated myself for losing her mom. Ever Elizabeth was and still remains the one person whom I love above anything else in the world, but there was a time when I hated her just as much.

I don't expect my daughter to have similar feelings towards her...hell, may as well call it what it is...baby. All I can hope for is that she find peace in her situation. Even if it just enough to make her smile, or sing in the shower again, or make stupid jokes. All that I want is for her to make it through it all in a relatively 'okay' state.

_No more, _I promise her as I stand in her doorway, watching her sleep. _Soon it'll all be over...Snow, those men. Trust Daddy, sweetheart. Hang in there, kid._


	88. Everybody Breaks A Glass

Disclaimer: I still do not own The Hunger Games.

I had a mini playlist of mostly happy songs to listen to while I wrote this chapter ^_^ it helped me through writer's block. Strange, because usually songs that relate to the chapter or story or characters help me through writer's block...but this time that wasn't the case 0.0 And other than the very end, it's not a PARTICULARLY HAPPY chapter. Maybe I write better with happy music?

Avicii- Wake Me Up

LIGHTS- Everybody Breaks A Glass

Metric- Youth Without Youth

CRO (German rapper/singer)- Whatever

Zazie- Je Suius Un Homme

The Kinks- Come Dancing

The Proclaimers- 500 Miles

The Cab- Angel With A Shotgun

Somebody, fix my brain.

Love,

McKala

Thank you EVERYBODY for the kind reviews, alerts, and favorites. I reply to every review- typically, I might miss a few now and again but I try to get them all. I'm going to start PMing to thank favorites and alerts, as well.

* * *

**Everybody Breaks A Glass**

* * *

_And here I'm standing in the middle_

_Not just a little but a hill-full_

_Wondering how I got a head cold_

_Wishing I didn't know what I know_

_It's never been about the money_

_We're worthy or we are not worthy_

_However much you've got on your plate_

_You're as good as you reciprocate_

_-LIGHTS 'Everybody Breaks A Glass'_

* * *

_Ever…_

"I don't see why I have to come with you," I grumble. "Why can't you go talk to Katniss by yourself?"

"Delilah thinks that it would help if you were there," he trusts that I won't run away and lets go of my arm. "You know how the post-arena trauma is and you can relate to Katniss better than I can."

"I doubt it; all she and I have in common are our double-x chromosomes, plus she hates me. You really want me to go with you to visit someone who hates me?"

"Ever Elizabeth, just do it."

"Can't I just stay home and pretend I still have morning sickness? Please?"

Exasperated, he shoots me a sideward glance and says nothing, Haymitch code for 'shut up and do as I say.' Reluctantly, I don't take off running home when he knocks on the door, but _oh_ how I want to. Delilah answers the door, apparently grateful that we've come, which in itself is strange because I can't remember the last time anyone's been glad to see my father and I. Delilah Everdeen can't be older than my father but today, she seems older- probably the toll of the worry. Nobody is immune to the effects of surviving the arena, not even Katniss Everdeen.

We're led inside to the sitting room of the house. Architecturally speaking, it is nearly identical to our own, but that's where the similarities end. It's not as if we life in a pigsty, just that neither of us would be tipped very high if we were housekeepers and the Everdeens certainly would. Also, instead of wooden floors, the foyer is tiled before leading into the wood-floored sitting room where Katniss sits, clutching a steaming cup of tea, near Prim.

Delilah gestures for me to sit in an armchair across from Katniss. Once I'm comfortable I take the liberty of pouring myself a cup of a tea and then sit back and stare at her. Our parents stand together, about twenty feet from Katniss's couch and with between four and five feet of space between each other. I'm supposed to be paying attention to Katniss, not our parents, but it would appear that Dad and Delilah were friends at one point- his normal space-bubble is eight to twelve feet, depending on how much he dislikes a person. Delilah, Chaff, Raewyn, and I are the only ones I've ever seen him break that rule and get away with it.

Katniss isn't going to initiate conversation so I guess it's up to me. If I were her, I'd beat me up if I brought up the Games out of the blue. Small talk it is. "Would it be bold to assume that you like tea?"

"No," she half-mumbles without bothering to look up.

"Have you ever tried mint tea with honey instead of sugar?"

She still doesn't look up, but she isn't mumbling and her voice sounds normal rather than vacant. "No."

"How do you like living here?"

I'm fairly certain that she rolls her eyes. "It feels too spacious."

I nod. This house would of course seem extravagant to her, which shows me another major difference between the two of us. I grew up in Victor's Village the privileged child of a victor who has only experienced her District's suffering as a spectator. Even my father had spent his sixteen years' time as a starving Seam boy before his victory, but me? I never knew the true meaning of hunger, and I've always lived in a house large enough for a family six times the size of mine, whereas Katniss knows that her mother, sister, and herself could live comfortable in a small Seam home. The idea of living in this house must seem like a waste to her.

"It won't feel that big after a while," I tell her. "You'll get used to it."

This must set her off because she glares at me while she replies. "Not all of us were born with silver spoons in our mouths. You're not better than me just because you grew up rich."

"I never implied that I was, Katniss. Believe it or not I'm here to help you."

"You're younger than me," she shrugs with mocking eyes.

Folding my arms over my chest, I make eye contact are stare hard. "I've also been doing this victor thing a lot longer than you have."

Katniss stares out the window behind me, her gaze very purposely fixated above my head and slightly to the right. "Our parents must expect us to be buddy-buddy now, is that right?"

"Your mother invited us over," I reply, keeping my own gaze fixated on her. "Frankly, I think my father couldn't care less about my social life, including when it pertains to you. Our parents care more about your mental health than our friendship or lack thereof. I know you don't like me, and I don't care."

"I don't like you," Katniss says monotone.

"Nobody holds it against you," I turn to look at my father and grin.

"I don't want to be friends with you," Katniss drones. "I don't want to get to know you. I don't care what kind of slutty things you do in the Capitol, I don't care that you're knocked up. I haven't decided if I hate you or if I just dislike you yet."

"That's fine," I say. "I have more pressing issues than what you think of me. I'm not here to be your friend, I'm here to help keep you from offing yourself. Don't think for one second that I'm interested in being your friend, because I'm not. I'd just rather you not make good use of that high banister."

"Ever Elizabeth-" Daddy begins to scold, but Delilah gives him a look and he shuts his mouth. Delilah Everdeen knows her daughter's nature and apparently a small amount of tough love is just what she needs.

I cross my legs and glance away from her. "Peeta's doing quite well, just in case you care."

Katniss's nostrils flare in anger and her eyes narrow. "Don't mention him."

"Touchy subject," I mutter. "Duly noted."

My comment is met with a disdainful scowl (is there any other kind?) and a haughty eye roll. Katniss wants to talk to me even less than I want to talk to her, that much is obvious, but her mother asked for me to speak with her which kind of leaves me out of options. Katniss's dark hair falls around her shoulders, combining with her cold, angry eyes in making her look almost feral.

"You're going to have to come to terms with it eventually," I sigh.

"I already have."

"No you haven't," I glance at my father and add in a softer tone, "It's the only way you can move on."

"What if I don't want to move on?"

"Then enjoy living the rest of your life alone and miserable," I bitterly answer. "Because that's where that will get you."

"I don't like you," Katniss says. "I don't."

"I don't like you either," I stand up. "Yet here I am, willing to help."

We stare at each other for a few seconds, she's angry and annoyed, and I'm bored and irritated. Katniss is biting her lip to keep from saying something undoubtedly cutting out of nothing but the want for this awkward and tense conversation to end, and I'm doing the same. To my surprise and delight, our parents get the message that their daughters don't want to talk right now and I'm allowed to leave.

~.*~.*~.*

"You didn't have to be so harsh," he says, placing a glass of ice water in front of me. "You know how hard it is."

"You're supposed to be on _my_ side," I scowl and lean into the sofa. "Not hers."

"You could always be a bit gentler. It wouldn't kill you, sweetheart." There it is. There's the mocking tone in the word 'sweetheart.' I'm familiar with it, but it has never been directed at me before. Even when he's upset with me, sweetheart is a term of endearment. Only to other people is it meant to be sarcastic.

My father keeps looking at me which does nothing but make my anger flare. "I have bigger problems than Katniss and you know it. She's traumatized, it sucks, and I feel sorry for her. I'm willing to help her but she sure as hell isn't my priority."

"I'm not asking you to make her a priority," he says. "Just be a bit les…"

"Less me?"

"This isn't you, Ever. Dark, angry, bitter."

Swirling the ice around inside of the glass, I smirk. "It is now."

"Sweetheart," he sighs, the gentleness in the word returning when he sits down next to me. He tries to hug me but I push him away.

"I don't want to talk about it," and he knows exactly what 'it' I'm alluding to.

Giving up on making a second attempt to hug me, he keeps his distance. "You're going to have to talk about it eventually."

"Not today, Daddy. Please?"

"Okay," he concedes. "Not today. There is, however, something that you _will _do today. Take my wallet, go into a town, and buy food. You've only left Victor's Village twice since the Games, it's really not healthy. You need air."

"What if I don't want air?"

"Too bad," he practically lifts me off of the couch and shoves me out the door.

* * *

_Haymitch…_

The thing about Ever is that she's usually an anal-retentive neat freak. Whenever I'd peek in to her bedroom, the bed was perfectly made, pillows, blankets, and stuffed animals in a neat little setup, never more than three books resting on her bedside table, dirty clothes resting in the hamper, clean floors- the girl is almost obsessive. Perhaps that is why, as soon as I sent her out, I ran upstairs to tidy up the room. I tell myself that it's for her, but really, I think it's for me. She doesn't much care for cleanliness at the moment, and neither do I, but the fact that she's allowed it to get this messy just shows how little she cares about anything and everything.

I don't know what to do about her anymore. I haven't known for a long time.

I pick up the stack of books from her bedside table, and allow a brief smile when I see Rose's photograph behind them. Though I doubt it, maybe she would know what to do, or rather, what to _say_. Admittedly, there isn't much _to_ do. There is much to say, unfortunately, I don't know the right words.

Watching her hurt and hate herself is torture, but knowing that there's nothing I can about it is a thousand times worse.

In spite of the terrible situation, I don't give in to despair because, dare I say it, I see the silver lining. This past year could have been worse: she could have been killed in the street attack, her amnesia could have been permanent, she could have ended up pregnant a year ago and that would have been even worse than it is now. I'm not predicting that Ever will warm up to the idea of her baby the way I warmed up to the idea of her, though, I am certain that she'll come to understand that she isn't alone in this. It's not much, but my daughter will always have me. I've been by her side for nearly fifteen years and I don't plan on changing that anytime soon. I may not know what to do, or what to say, but she has me.

At this point, neither of us knows what's going to happen. Eventually, she will have to have the baby, and, ultimately, decide what she's going to do. Part of me wills this whole thing to go away, another hopes that she can just send him or her to be raised by some Capitol snobs, while still another quietly thinks that if she keeps it, I could help her…hell, I'd be more than happy to do the bulk of the work.

Then again I'm willing to do just about anything to make my daughter happy again. She was such a happy smiley little girl and, truthfully, she has been the main reason that I haven't offed myself yet. How could I even think of something like that when, every day, I woke up to something like _'wake up, Daddy! We gots tah play hide n' go seek t'day cuz' you pwomised!'_ and she'd look at me with those little brown eyes and there goes my will power…she must know that I'll do everything I can to make her happy.

Thus far, even if I've had turn to other people to help, I've found ways, and I'll be a Snow loyalist before I give up on trying for her.

:-:

I hold on to Ever's knit cow plush a little longer than I thought I would. Maybe I'm just bored. Maybe it's the sentiment attached to the object. Maybe it's the memories of not only my daughter, but my sister, and my brother.

Handmade by our mother, Dr. Cow was Ania's first and most loved childhood toy, and faithful companion. Ania always told me that before she had me to pal around with, she was lonely- mostly because the kids at school bored her to tears. She passed Dr. Cow on to me when I was two, and I passed him down to Seamus as soon as I deemed him old enough to recognize it as _his _toy instead of just some plaything. At the time, I was very, very attached to Dr. Cow and nine-year-old Haymitch had to make sure that he'd be taken care of.

When my brother died, Dr. Cow and a few other items of sentimental value were shoved into some boxes and shut away in a closet. The week Ever was born, I opened up one of the boxes and found the stuffed animal sitting right on top and immediately, I placed him in her cot. Just as Dr. Cow comforted my siblings and I, he quickly became Ever's most prized possession.

If Ever does end up keeping her baby, I can talk her into giving her Dr. Cow. Him. Her. It…no, not it, him or her. As much as we both want it to be so, he or she is a baby and not an 'it.'

The phone rings, disrupting my thoughts, I scramble to answer before the machine does. I make it just in time and recognize the number as one of Plutarch's many. As dictated by protocol I pick up and wait four seconds, hang up, and he calls back. Many of the victors involved in this revolution have children and spouses in the dark and we have the call-hangup-call system in place to minimize the risk of information getting out. It also helps that the four people in charge of monitoring the phones are on our side, and while they can't remove the bugs, they can turn them off temporarily or delete information. We wouldn't risk not using codes to speak, but just in case, it's a great safety net.

"Plutarch," I say. "I was kind of in the middle of something."

"I'm sure it can wait, Mr. Abernathy."

"Yes, now what is it?"

"It has been something like two months since the dual victory. You do know what this means?"

"Victory Tour in four months," I sigh. "Is it really that necessary for me to-"

"I do hope that you are joking," Plutarch groans.

"Of course," I wish I wasn't. "The girl is completely clueless."

"Keep it that way," he warns.

Plutarch Heavensbee is foolish to think that anybody would tell her anything. Katniss needs to remain in the dark, as does the boy, and if I can help it, Ever. "That won't be an issue, now what are you calling about?"

"Convince him, Haymitch."

"I'm sorry?"

"Convince Snow that it's real, all of it," and the call ends.

Let me add that to my lists of responsibilities. Damned kids, damned dual victory, and for fuck's sake I'm not _their _father. For once, I just want to worry about my _own _kid. Nobody else's kids, just mine.

* * *

_Ever…_

Errands.

For as long as I've been old enough to understand poverty, starvation, and class differences I've hated walking into shops loaded with sufficient cash while everyone around me begs, barters, and occasionally steals just to survive. It makes me more uncomfortable than sex and my heart sinks deeper into the pit of my stomach every time that I run errands. With my head down, I walk past the shoemaker's with bread from the bakery, liquor from the Hob, apples as fresh are available in 12, and vegetables most likely fresher than Seam families have ever tasted. I'm about to turn back around and see if there is any chicken or beef available from District 10, but that's before the pickpocket makes a mistake and I feel the hands in my pants pocket. Calmly, I turn my head to the side so that I'm looking at the pickpocket, a female, out of my peripheral vision. She knows that she's been caught and makes an attempt to dash away, but I trip her, place the shopping on the street, and stand over her, deducing what I can from her appearance.

Eighteen, take maybe a year or give up to three, dark brown hair that looks black in random places from coal dust, darker skin than many of the light olive citizens but considerably paler than Chaff, and a look of both shock and fear in her eyes. This isn't some amateur thief. It is very probable that she's been stealing fruit, vegetables, bread, and even shoes for the majority of her life. I would be surprised if she hasn't liberated some liras and kuruş from my and my father's wallets before; few pickpockets in 12 have the skill and chutzpah to steal from us, yet, it happens several times a year. The girl is from the Seam, obviously. She has the right complexion for a Seam, Ridge, or Meadow's Edge girl, her level of malnourishment eliminates the second, and something about her screams obvious coal miner's daughter and eliminates the last.

Her lips struggle to form words and they stop altogether when I shush her. Besides, her eyes communicate what her fails failed to: Don't kill me. Please don't kill me.

"I'm not going to kill you," I frown. "Or even tell you off, because I'm not angry."

The look on her face reads distrust.

Keeping my eyes fixated on her I back away so that she can stand up. "You honestly think that I'd be angry about you stealing from me? I have more money than I know what to do with and, I'm going to be very candid with you right now…you could have just asked."

She makes a type of grunting noise in response to me as she stands.

"Here," I offer her the wallet and to my surprise she backs away. "Go on, take it. Take the money, go buy yourself fresh bread, and a pair of shoes, and you'll still have enough to buy a chicken if there are any, and if not, plenty of wild dog or squirrel. Take the money."

"I don't need your charity," she hisses.

"Like hell you don't," I snort. "Easy solution. Do not think of it has charity."

"When that is exactly what it is? No thank you."

I shrug and drop the wallet back to my side. "Then you and your family can continue to starve. I hope you don't feel too guilty when you remember that you could have done something about it."

The Seam girl is silent while I turn my back to pick up the shopping, silent while I start to walk away, but I do not get more than ten yards away from her until I hear her shout in anger. "What do you know about going hungry? What do you care about me?"

"I don't wish for anybody to die of starvation," I answer, turning back to her. "While I sit in my warm, cozy home with a full stomach."

"Then get off your arse and help people! You and father just sit holed up in Victor's Village and do nothing to help!"

I stare at her when she mentions my father…nobody talks trash about my father (except me) and gets away with it. "You don't know the first thing about my family. Has a friend of yours ever come across a pile of coins and found that it was enough to pay for some necessities? Yeah, that's us. My offer still stands. Take the money."

"No."

"Fine."

This time, she doesn't call after me. I refuse to let her go hungry and grab a loaf of bread and throw if behind me along with two apples, and, of course, the wallet. The shuffling of a body tells me that she's accepting my charity followed by a mumbled thanks.

"You're welcome," I stop walking and keep my back to her. "Nice to meet you, my name is Ever."

"Everybody knows who you are," she mutters as if I've gone loopy.

"True," I sigh and turn to face her once again. I advance and offer her my hand. "It feels nice to introduce myself, though.

"Alitza Sparrowman," she shakes my hand briefly and adjusts the wallet and foodstuffs in her hands. "I won't apologize for my hostility."

"I never asked you to," I smile. "Alitza. If you need more money or if that one blanket you have is wearing too thin…second house on the left side, Victors Village."

Alitza does not voice a thank you. It's in her eyes, it's in her nod, and it's in the smile on her face as she walks away. For once, the Victors' curse has been used for good. Alitza's family, if they are very careful with the money, can live comfortably for several weeks and ever permanently make a small improvement if they're clever with it. No matter what they do, they have the next two weeks of meals, some soap, and a few candles guaranteed.

I've made that family's lives better, easier, and more relaxed if only temporarily.

:-:

"You seem happier," Daddy notes with a suspicious grin. "I'm not complaining, simply curious."

"A girl named Alitza Sparrowman tried pickpocketing me today. I caught her and gave her all of the money anyway, like, it's not like we need it."

"Sparrowman, you said?"

"Yes, why?"

He shrugs. "I didn't know there were any Sparrowman's left, I'm glad there are. Would her father's name happen to be Cihan?"

"We didn't get to know each other that well," I laugh. "I'm sure I'll see her again, she knows where to find me if she needs anything else. I know, I know. 'Ever, what a stupid idea, befriending a pickpocket.'"

"No," he shakes his head and leans over to kiss my cheek. "I think it's very kind of you. That's something that the Ever I've always known and loved would do. Remember when you were being bullied by that Ophelia Moss girl? What did you do?"

"Brought cookies to share with her at lunch time," I giggle.

"Exactly," he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "I love you, sweetheart. I don't really tell you enough, do I?"

I hug him and shake my head. "You say it plenty, Daddy."

He helps me put away the shopping and tidy up the kitchen, as one of my random 'clean-this-room-now' moments appears. Once the kitchen is tidy enough for me I look at him and ask, "Do you know what made me feel really good about today?"

"What?"

"For once in my life, I made somebody's life better."

At that, he frowns and then smiles again and sneak attack hugs me. "You made mine better, kiddo. You do it every day."

I make a gagging face and shove him off of me. "Yuck, Daddy. You're getting sentimental, you cheeseball!"

He grins mischeviously and back up a few feet into the table. "It's true."

I had forgotten that on the table, there is an open jar of peanut butter, and I remember about it only after he draws a line of peanut butter on my face. "Cheater!"

"How is that cheating?" he laughs. "I got you fair and squ- oh shi-!"

I've opened the little plastic container of flour and flicked half a fistful at him. The flour is now all over his black shirt. "Payback!"

"That's fine," he opens his arms and slowly advances toward me, peanut butter on his hands, and doing his best to back me into a corner. While I frantically look for an escape route he moves closer and says, "I'm just going to hug you."_  
_

"With peanut butter!"

"Exactly," he smirks.

I reach over and drag the container of flour towards me and rapid fire at him: one, two, three, four, five, six, sev- and now there's peanut butter on my shirt. I giggle-squeal and wriggle out of his grasp and we both lean against the counter and laugh like, I'd assume, normal families do.

* * *

I've been waiting to introduce Alitza for a looooong time. I'm going to introduce a few more OCs from 12 in the upcoming chapters. One or two will become Ever's friends (or at least close to that) and the rest, just extras with names, occasional appearances, some character story, but not a lot. I have quite the time gap to fill before the Victory Tour as well as the 75th Games.

I'm trying to keep Katniss in-character, but there isn't much that Suzanne Collins gives me to make that happen. All that we know about Katniss post-arena and pre-Victory Tour is that she and Haymitch eventually grow close enough to speak in "a kind of shorthand." We know that Katniss isn't very friendly, and wouldn't take too kindly to a younger girl (Ever) trying to give her advice. Ever has grown into a bit of a sarcastic and a cynic, and while Katniss is similar in this aspect, it ticks her off that Ever acts this way toward her and while Ever sees it as being matter-of-fact and honest, Katniss sees it as bitchy, condescending, and sometimes holier-than-thou. At this point, Katniss is still very traumatized from the arena. The horrors is fresher than it is in Catching Fire, she's experiencing survivor's guilt, a drastic lifestyle change, her mind is both trying to rehash these experiences in nightmares and suppress the trauma at the same time, she's confused, and understandably, more snappish than in CF, a little bitchy, and easily set off. Eventually she will evolve into the Katniss we see in Catching Fire. However, this evolution will be kind of distantly observed, and in the background. There are three books about Katniss, and this isn't about her. While she will inevitably feature in much of the rest of this fanfic, especially from the Victory Tour onward, she is not and will not be the main focus. I'll do my best to not paint her as the bad guy, but I'll tell you right now that she will never be Ever's favorite person. She doesn't hate Katniss. She just doesn't have a particular liking for her and is mostly indifferent.


	89. Slight Figure of Speech

Disclaimer: I still do not own The Hunger Games.

I really wish that I had started this fanfic in third person instead of first. *facedesks*

Amma is Icelandic for grandmother

As always, I appreciate everybody who reads and if you are reading, please review. I can't improve my writing if nobody tells me what they think; and I do reply to reviews and personally thank each one of them- I've dropped the ball lately but I'm getting back to it.

* * *

**Slight Figure of Speech**

* * *

_They say you've got to lose a couple fights to win_

_It's hard to tell from where I'm sitting_

_-The Avett Brothers 'Slight Figure of Speech'_

* * *

_Ever…_

Two weeks have passed since the day I met Alitza Sparrowman.

I haven't seen her since and until I hear news that tells me otherwise I take it as a good sign. Hopefully her family used my money wisely- maybe, just maybe, they even have a few coins left unspent. Far too many families go hungry in District 12. Although I cannot lessen every family's burden, I can help one girl and her family and that alones gives me a satisfaction that I cannot quite explain. Victors have more money than we need and with two victors in my family it only makes sense that we help whomever we can. I like thinking about Alitza and her nameless faceless relatives because it keeps my mind off of the ever-present issue.

My abdomen is still small, but a slight bump serves as a constant reminder that _'hey kid, you're three months and some change pregnant! Did ya hear that? Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant…' _Pregnant. Simply thinking about it makes me want to scream, cry, vomit, break things…everything about that word disgusts me. Soon I will gain weight and have an obvious baby bump. How am I to hide that from the Victory Tour cameras? This pregnancy is to be kept under wraps as best as possible; I don't want _them _knowing. They'll exploit the thing just like they exploited me. From the moment I was brought to the Capitol as an infant, like all VKs, I was used to sell magazines and when I became a victor I was sold for sex. Raising this thing may be the last thing I want to do, but I'm not so cruel as to wish my life upon it.

It. It. It. It. It.

I can't really call it _it_, can I? A baby, it is a baby no matter how much I want it not to be.

_Pregnant_: a word worse than every swear word imaginable. The very thing that I feared the most has become a reality and I can no longer deny that this is happening by calling the baby an 'it.' This is a human being. A human being is growing inside of me, using my body as a food source, making my abdomen grow larger, causing my hormones bounce off the bloody walls, and is eventually going to leave my body and continue to depend on me for everything. Every cry has to be responded to, I'll still be nothing but a food source and life-support system for this _creature _that I'm supposed to love but I can't, not yet. I'm supposed to love this baby, supposed to be willing to die for him, supposed to be desperate to meet her…but I don't, I wouldn't, and I am not.

I wish I could be like my dad.

My father is fantastic. Haymitch Abernathy is the best father that a girl could ask for. He can braid hair, he knows exactly when I need a little tough love, and most importantly I am his top priority. I haven't a doubt about the lengths that he would go to for me.

The few times that I did imagine having children, I imagined that I would be like my father. Scared at first, then excited and full of love, and lastly, willing to lay down my own life for my child(ren). Clearly that isn't how my life is panning out. I hate everything about this pregnancy but I hate myself most of all. I hate myself because I hate the baby when the baby itself has done nothing wrong. Any attempts at reasoning with myself- you hate the _father_, not the actual baby- have failed because I cannot quite bring myself to admit 'I don't hate you' even though I want to.

Honestly, I cannot say whether or not I wish to love the baby. Love is such a loaded word. My desire is to love the baby or to not is still to be determined. All that I do know is that I don't want to hate it…him.

Her.

Whatever.

I yawn an absently press a few keys on the piano.

"Playing again?" Daddy asks unable to hide the hopefulness in his voice.

"No," I say apologetically. "Only messing around."

"Oh," he frowns and takes a swig of whiskey. "You play beautifully."

The corners of my mouth briefly turn up into a smile, "Thanks, but I'm not feeling it."

"Are you hungry? I can make you something," he quickly changes the subject.

I frown and my reply it bitterer than I meant for it to be. "Aren't you hanging out with Katniss today?"

"I have time to make my kid something to eat."

"Not hungry," I mumble.

"You need to eat."

"I'll eat when I'm hungry," I say. "Stop nagging."

"Ever-"

_Here we go- _"Ever Elizabeth," I mock. "I know, I know. Go see Katniss, I'll have something for us to eat when you get home."

* * *

_Finnick…_

"Dammit," I hiss when half of the laundry falls to the floor. I shrug and let the rest of it fall because, to hell with chores, I'm twenty-three and therefore reserve the right to be a lazy slob. If I want to walk around my house without underwear, I will.

Actually I won't. I tried that whole nudist thing and I cannot bring myself to stick with it; what if I have to exit my house for some reason and don't have time to put clothes on? Then I'd be running outside naked and every child in District 4 will be traumatized and need twenty years of therapy.

On the bright side, it'd make the trashy Capitol magazines boatloads of money. 'Lookie There, It's Finnick Odair's-'

_I deserve to be shot._

Ever, Annie, and Johanna would have laughed at that; Ever would have started snorting, Annie would have 'Finnick!'ed and rolled her eyes, and Jo would have laughed so hard that no sound would come out and she'd just sit there clapping like a half-paralyzed seal. I miss them all terribly. I'm not there for Ever when she needs a friend the most, I wasn't there to save Annie, and if not with me, who's Jo going to socialize with?- the woman is a recluse.

_You're like a child with separation anxiety,_ Mack said the other day. He was right; I am acting much like a child spending his first night away from his parents and Ever's new dilemma is only exacerbating it. Every part of me wants to track down the good-for-nothing scumbag who did it and shove a trident through his chest, take my sweet time castrating him, and feed him - very much alive – to the sharks.

In theory it could be much worse than it is. I do not have much time to sit idle and worry about my friends or mourn Annie with the revolution on my mind. Mack was finally contacted by a Capitol rebel last week, a nameless, faceless, 'They' who apparently has shared with him a wealth of information. Just the other day I was telling Mags that I wasn't quite used to being back on speaking terms with my brother, and his involvement in the rebellion to come is making it ten times greater of an adjustment. Between the covertness of our operation, my brother, and getting to know my nieces and nephews, there isn't much time to worry or mourn and when I do find time, Mags fortunately gets in the way.

"Young man," Mags says from my kitchen. "Quit your swearing and bring your pretty little butt over here- and you best be wearing underwear."

"Yes ma'am," I kick the pile of clean clothes around and scurry to the kitchen. "Mags amma, you can sit on the couch in the other room."

Mags flashes a toothless grin at me and her eyes dart to the refrigerator. "A brilliant idea, however your food is here and not there."

"Oh," I gasp feigning offense. "You only visit me for the food? I am crushed."

"The truth hurts Finn-O."

"Indeed," I chuckle and sit down in the chair across from her spot at the table. "What brings you here this afternoon; aside from raising my food supply? I do hope it isn't to tell me the same message from Plutarch."

"Can't an old woman pay a visit to her favorite gorgeous young man without having a motive?"

"Not lately, no. You almost always have a reason nowadays," I push my chair out and point to the kettle on the stove. "Tea?"

"I don't believe that I have ever turned down tea. And, it happens to be that I came by just to talk today," Mags tapped her fingers on the tabletop in a three-beat rhythm. "Unless you aren't in a talking mood?"

"Please," I say with a bit more urgency than I had wanted to. Who would turn down an afternoon chat with the sweetest lady in the District? "Stay, have tea, chat. It's been a while but don't bother with small talk and get to the questions that I know you're itching to ask."

Mags' warm laughter is the only thing aside from her personality unaffected by her stroke four years earlier and to me one of the most comforting sounds in the world. She rakes her fingers through her white hair and narrows her eyes at me, "I will, I will. Want to tell me how you're feeling?"

"There are many things I'm having feelings about right now," I pour us both some tea and wander back over to the table. "Care to specify?"

"One thing at a time then," her smile fades. "Annie?"

My grip on my cup tightens at the mention of her name as the anger, guilt, and frustration come back to me for the first time in a few days. "Better, I feel better than before. I'm taking it little by little, letting the anger and guilt run their course like- like before."

"Annie wasn't your fault and neither was your mother."

_Oh Mags, I love you but spare it. _"Annie was very much my fault and Mom…I should have tried harder."

"You did what you could for her," Mags said. "It was you that she demanded to see before she died: not your father, not your brother, you. She wouldn't want you blaming yourself and neither would Annie- don't you open your mouth yet, a 'but' is coming on. They both died because of circumstances that were out of your control and if you're going to blame yourself for them then you may as well trade that trident in for scythe and call yourself Grim Reaper.

"Ever?"

"I can't talk about that," I grind my teeth together in anger directed at an unknown face and name. "That whole mess is-"

"Your friend's life. Have you spoken to her lately?"

"She calls a few times a week."

"Good," my mentor takes my hand and quietly asks her next question. "And your father? You're speaking with Macklin again, I'm assuming Teague knows."

_What in Hades is she getting at with these questions? Assessing my bloody mental state? _

My father and I never did have problems with each other apart from the expected father-son squabbles, which should indicate a solid relationship, but doesn't necessarily. After my victory my parents and I remained close while my brother shunned me but that changed when my mother died. He didn't mean for it to happen, so I was never angry with him, but it did. It didn't take a genius to see which parent I favored in appearance: my, Havana, by a longshot. Mom was the love of Dad's life and when she died, he couldn't even look at a photograph of her, much less the living and breathing son that reminds him of her more and more every second he's around him. By choice, I removed myself from his life for an amount of time and we've been in touch, but it will never be like it was.

As far as him knowing that his sons are once again on speaking terms, I would assume that Mack has told him. "He might," I answer. "Not like it would matter, I doubt that-"

"Regardless of you and your brother being adults, your father is your father and still wants his boys to get along," she drinks the last of her tea and pours herself some more.

I don't say anything.

Mags's questions are random, and I know that they serve a purpose- for her at least- but I don't know what it is or how else to respond other than by keeping my mouth closed. If anybody else showed up in my kitchen and started asking me those questions I wouldn't have been very nice about it- but it's Mags. Mags, the woman who is a second mother to me, who helped me through the Games and the post-Games trauma, and who taught me the more basic tasks of living alone like how to properly organize the dishes in their respective cabinets.

Finally I just do the opposite of the manly thing to do and actually ask her. "What are the questions for, amma?"

"Finnick, dear. I have been worrying about you more than I usually do," she turns her frown into a motherly grin. "You are a strong, brave, fantastic young man but you aren't invincible. Between Annie, Ever, our plans, and your brother being back in your life I fear that you might-"

"Lose it? Don't worry about that," I stand up and walk around the table and hug her. "It'll take more than that to make this guy fly off the handle."

Mags laughs and kisses my cheek. "I know, Finn-o. Call it abusing the privilege to worry."

"Yes, yes- goodness! Done with your second cup already- more tea?"

* * *

_Ever…_

My mother's journal has been kept under my mattress since my father gave it to me. Lately, I have found myself reading it daily partially due to the fact that she chronicled every day of her pregnancy. Funny how mine is mirroring hers rather closely- or is it? Are they all the same?

_That's a question for Raewyn you dumbo,_ Mean Ever points out. Mean Ever is very bitchy and is certainly not a happy camper when it comes to my cluelessness. I suppose I could ask Delilah Everdeen, but I'd rather avoid the Everdeen house if I can- at least until my father makes some progress with…Katniss.

Call me territorial, but as much as I do genuinely want Katniss to work through her PTSD, I don't want her growing too close to Daddy. He's my dad (emphasis on _my_) and though he's her mentor, he isn't her father. Part of me scolds the rest of me for being so jealous- her dad died, you can share your dad with her a little, can't you?- still another part of me wants to have him all to myself like I used to. Another part of me desperately wishes that I could have not only him, but my mother as well. As much as I love my dad, I would give anything to have a conversation with my mom right now. Her journal is helpful I suppose but having _her _here to talk to would have been ideal. Maybe it's the hormones making me more emotional about it than usual, but recently I've been feeling very cheated by the universe when it comes to my mom. Rose Fairchild-almost-Abernathy is a stranger to me if one takes the time to think about it. What did her voice sound like? I don't know. What lullabies did she sing to get me to sleep? I can't say. What advice does she always give me? She didn't live to give me advice.

If I hadn't ever needed her advice before, I sure as hades need it now.

"You might find something helpful in there, but I wouldn't count on it."

"I didn't hear you come in."

"I had hoped not," he said, walking over to my bed and sitting on the edge. "Find anything useful yet?"

I frown and close the journal. "Only that in a few weeks I'm supposed to feel little fluttery movements, 'like a ladybug racing about.' I don't want to feel it-them – move. Then that makes this real."

"It's always been real, sweetheart."

"Once they start moving, they're _there_. They're there and I can't pretend they aren't anymore."

Either my dad isn't up to saying anything or he just doesn't know what _to_ say so he settles on hugging me like he did when I was little- holding me as close to him as he can, my head resting on his chest, and me curled up in a ball, clinging to him. It must hurt him an awful lot, watching this happen to me. Still, he's here and he's being my dad. He might reek of alcohol from this morning's whiskey and toast breakfast, but since when did I turn down my father's affection because of a little alcohol?

"I didn't want this to happen," I whisper. "I was careful."

"I'm sure you were, sweetheart. It often just happens anyway, regardless whether you want it or not. Believe me, I know," he messes up my hair and smiles. "It turned out all right me, and you know that I'll do what I can to make sure that you're all right too."

"Hey," I laugh cynically. "Get pregnant you get a get-out-of-whoring free card."

"That's the spirit," he says, his voice full of sarcasm.

I yawn and stretch like a cat and say, "I think I'll take you up on the food offer now. Do we have the stuff to make cucumber sandwhiches?"

"Yes, but you're coming downstairs to eat them. It's good to actually leave your bedroom more than once a day."

:-:

People say that when you die, your spirit lives on and all five of your senses still work. If such is the case, then heaven must taste like cucumber sandwiches: bread with cream cheese, sour cream, and cut up cucumber in little finger-food sized creations. That was the only way that my dad could make me eat vegetables when I was small- stick them in a sandwich and smother them with ketchup or cream cheese. Years later, cucumber sandwiches are still my favorite things to eat.

I'm halfway through with my third sandwich and Daddy's making another for me when there's a knock at the door. "I'll get it," I stuff the sandwich in my mouth and chew furiously as I tiptoe to the door.

Expecting it to be Katniss, I have a witticism prepared and a different one ready in case it's Peeta, but it isn't either of the new victors standing on the opposite side. Alitza Sparrowman stands on the front porch, eyes cast downward, and looks ashamed to be here.

"I'm sorry," she forces herself to say. "I wouldn't have- but it's- it's urgent.

I step onto the porch and let the door close partially. "I meant it when I said you could come whenever you needed something," I say; it is impossible to solve District 12s poverty problem, but I know that I have the funds to help Alitza's family and that in itself is worthwhile.

Alitza chews on her lip and shakes her head. "You have no idea how demeaning this is for me, for anybody."

She's right. There's a reason that any help my father and I manage to give to the poor is in secret and always anonymous. Even in their abject poverty, then people of District 12 are prideful and determined, and something like outright asking a victor for financial help is considered a blatant and open admission of defeat. Up until a few years ago, I didn't know this, but I suppose that I should have; Ivy's family allowed me to play with her, but always hesitated before eventually letting her go play at my house because even allowing your child to play in Victor's Village with a victor's kid hinted at receiving financial help.

The impoverished District citizens don't mind stealing from us- in fact, pickpocketing and thievery and highly praised, condoned, and encouraged. Stealing from a victor is stealing from a killer and getting away with it but more importantly, in its own twisted, convoluted way, a pickpocket has taken the money by his or her own merit and is much preferred over a person who has stooped to beggary.

Of course Alitza is ashamed to be standing on the doorstep of the home of two victors.

Of course this is demeaning.

Of course she's embarrassed, because she is not only standing here (which is already gossip worthy); she is here to ask for help.

"Mother had to make me come here," she explains more for herself than for me. "It was you or Cray and you're nowhere near as repulsive as he is."

"I should hope not," I say, opening the door back up and stepping inside. "You coming?"

Her jaw drops as she catches a glimpse of the interior. Certainly it is nicer than anything she has seen before and she probably thinks it a waste for two people to live in such a large house. "Y-you actually live here?"

"Yeah," I cannot help but to be a little ashamed- but at the time, why should I be? I was born a privileged VK, she wasn't, and that isn't something that I could have controlled. Besides, Alitza doesn't seem resentful of my wealth, but confused, surprised, intrigued, and at worst maybe a little envious. "So," I begin. "May I ask what brings you here or would that be ill-mannered? Want something to eat?"

"I like to think that it would ill-mannered for you not to ask," she says, keeping close behind me. "I don't want to abuse the charity."

"It's not abusing it; it's taking advantage of a kind favor," I say.

Alitza thinks it over for less than a full half-minute and nods. "All right, it can't hurt no one- and thank you."

I've forgotten that my dad was still in the kitchen. He's a giant alcoholic teddy bear, but to people who aren't named Ever Abernathy, he can be intimidating. To her credit Alitza isn't as scared as I would have expected her to be when we walk in to the kitchen- more like uncertain about what to do or say.

"Ever, who's your friend?" he asks, not even turning his head around to look at us. Years of being a dad must have given him the ability to sense when there is somebody else other than just me nearby.

Alitza opens her mouth but I beat her to the punch. "Alitza Sparrowman, I mentioned her the other day."

He finishes making a sandwich and tosses the knife in the sink. "So you did," he runs his hands under the faucet and dries them on his shirt. "Haymitch, pleasure meeting you. You wouldn't happen to be related to a Cihan Sparrowman, would you?"

"I would," she says, prepared to defend him if she must. "He's my father, why?"

"I grew up next door to Cihan and his family. Good people, lovely people."

Alitza relaxes a little and raises her eyebrows in curiosity. "You were friends?"

"For a while," he answers. "When we were very small- always did like him, though. Tell me, did he end up marrying Laurel Reid, or was it Mindy Murray?"

"Mandy Murray."

"Excellent," he seems genuinely pleased. "I knew it."

_Since when were you sociable and poli- _oh, I see.

He's being so polite to Alitza because he thinks (knows) that I'm an antisocial hermit and he's trying to help (hook me up) me make them. You'd think that an unplanned teenage pregnancy would put Ever-needs-friends at the bottom of his priority list, but it has apparently been moved up a few spaces.

I grab a sandwich and hand it to the Seam girl. "Don't ask what's in it, just take a bite and I'll tell you."

She takes a bite and her expression is one of pure enjoyment. "Goodness this is great. Okay, what's in it."

"Cream cheese, cucumbers, and sour cream."

"Really now?" she takes another when I offer it and wolfs it down.

"What brings you here," I ask. "What do you need?"

Alitza frowns as she swallows the last of her second sandwich. "My little brother, he's really sick and we can't quite spare enough to get him the medicine he needs. Mother is paranoid, she thinks it's tuberculosis, but whatever he has has been going around- medicine will fix it."

I open a drawer and pull out a small bag of coins. "They're in quantities of 25, 10, and 5 kuruş. We don't keep pennies around."

"You strategically place them throughout town and The Hob," Alitza says, grinning.

"Exactly," I say, handing her the coins. "Keep whatever is left over from the medicine, and make it last like I know you will. You still have some money left over from last time, correct?"

"It's been going a long way," Alitza says. "Especially if you have Cihan and Mindy Sparrowman in charge of funds- they're cheap even for the Seam."

She stays for a short while longer before leaving to buy the medicine.

My dad sneaks up on me and gives me a bear hug. "I'm proud of you," he says. "You're doing a good thing, helping out."

_Yeah, _I have to admit. _It feels nice doing things for other people._

* * *

_Haymitch…_

My latest bit of rebel correspondence came in the form of a piece of paper passed along from the Capitol, to Mayor Undersee, to the butcher, and finally to me. It's always beneficial to have average District citizens be the messengers- who would suspect the butcher?

Communicated through a carefully worded letter:

_Haymitch,_

_The Victory Tour is approaching. I trust that you are preparing Katniss as best as you can_ (keeping the kids in the dark)_, I assure you I'm doing the same. There have been rumors of new Haircare Products _(Head Peacekeepers) _coming to twelve_ (District 12)_ major stores, including the three _(District 3) _most popular as well as my personal favorite _(District 4, the writer of the letter enjoys the fruits of 4s industry above all others). _I might try using them for Katniss, but perhaps sticking to what I know works is best. Besides, my source was herself fuzzy about information regarding the truth of the rumor _(so old Cray may not be getting replaced after all)_. _

_I would advise you to tell Ever the news _(Abernathy, stop being so stubborn and tell your daughter the truth about the rebels, she would love to join) _but I wouldn't want her getting her hopes up. I patiently await Ms. Trinket's itinerary for the Tour so I can know exactly when I should have each design finalized._

_Regards,_

_Cinna _

Like hell my daughter will learn the truth. I study the letter a moment or two longer and once I am sure that I've memorized it, light a candle and burn it over the sink. Just before Ever tiptoes back in to the kitchen to claim the last of the cucumber sandwiches, I toss the no longer burning candle under the sink- _close call. _I've got to be more covert; these aren't the early days of my involvement when I could easily handle rebel correspondence in from of my five-year-old. My daughter is nearly fifteen and wouldn't hesitate about asking questions if she noticed anything. Furthermore, she is far from stupid and any holes in my lies could very easily lead her to piece together bits of the truth.

Cinna and Plutarch are right. It would be much easier if I just let Ever in on it but as her father that just isn't something that I'm willing to do. The rebels are already planning on using Katniss and Peeta's romance and fuel to the revolution fire and Katniss herself as a symbol- operative word being _using_. I won't let my daughter be used either publically or more likely anonymously for the rebel cause, especially not with her current condition.

_A baby, _I still can't believe it. _She's having a damn baby._

When my involvement first began twelve years ago, I had hoped that perhaps our goal would have been achieved by the time Ever was old enough to be reaped:

"_Plutarch this is an automatic death sentence," I hissed, pulling the blanket tighter around my sleeping one-year-old. "You must know that it would never work, rebels could never win."_

"_You never know until you try Mr. Abernathy. Besides," he gestured to the baby in my arms. "Don't you want revenge on the regime that took her mother from her before she even had the opportunity to know her?"_

"_Getting my revenge isn't worth it if it makes my daughter an orphan," Haymitch at twenty-seven was just as stubborn Haymitch at forty. _

_Plutarch smiled. "Your involvement wouldn't be public, not until you're ready to make it so. Coded messages, clandestine meetings…people have been working toward this cause for over a decade, not one person has been found out and executed who followed basic stealth protocols. You want to be a part of this, Abernathy. I can see it in your eyes."_

_I held Ever closer to me and stared down at her little face and to make up for my silence Plutarch kept talking. Nothing that he said actually was processed until I picked up on one phrase: "-or just imagine your daughter living in a world with no Hunger Games, no reapings, where the institution that affected her parents cannot touch her. Don't you want that?"_

Seeing as that is now out of the question, all I want is to keep Ever's child from living in fear of the annual reaping. For surely, he or she will be reaped. Surely, he or she will be forced into prostitution if they are lucky enough to survive the arena.

I didn't join the rebels to get my name in the history books. I didn't join because I thought that the goal was easily attainable. I joined them because my daughter deserves better, because everybody's children deserve better.

I joined them because, the last time that I saw Rose alive, she made me promise that I would do whatever I needed to do to give Ever a good life.

"_You're going to win," I lied. "You have to win, you have Ever."_

_Rose blinked her chocolate eyes, shiny with tears at me and hugged the baby closer to her. "No Haymitch. _I _don't have Ever, _we _have Ever. I appreciate the vote of confidence, I really do, but we both know that I'm not-"_

"_Rose don't. Don't say it."_

"_Not saying it doesn't make it any less true," she said as she slowly inched toward me, expecting a hug. I obliged and held her as if it was the last time that I would. "Haymitch, I love you but I need you to not be in denial for just five seconds, okay? I need you to promise me something, and it's going to be the most important promise that you will ever make."_

_I refused to admit that I knew she would die, but I supposed that I could admit that it was a possibility. "All right, Rose. Anything for you, anything."_

_Rose smiled at Ever through her teary eyes and kissed her little nose. "Promise me that you'll take care of her. You can't shut down like you did after your mom and Seamus, you just can't. I won't be there to pull you- rather, annoy you for years and years- out of it. You will read to her every night just like I said I wanted to, you will let her sleep with you when she swears that the monsters are in her closet, you will be her dad. Promise that no matter what it is, no matter how daunting it seems, you'll do all that you possibly can to give her a good life. Can you do that, for me?"_

"_You know that I'll do all of that. Sweetheart-"_

"_Promise," Rose demanded. "Please, promise me."_

"_I promise."_

For the longest time I thought that my final promise to my fiancée meant that I would be as devoted of a father as I possibly could, but it wasn't until years after Plutarch convinced me to join the rebels that I realized what it really meant.

That promise encompassed every possible way to give her the life that she deserves; including joining an underground organization to take down Snow and stop the Games. Even if it means potentially leaving Ever without a father, it will be worth it if Snow is overthrown, if a new and fairer system is put in place, and if the Games are eradicated. If I think that it has even the slightest chance of making Ever happy, I have to do it. I owe it to Rose; I made a promise and I intend to keep it.


	90. So, Sally Can Wait

Disclaimer: I still do not own The Hunger Games.

Happy news: I turned 16 a few days ago! I won't say which day, but if you Google 'John Lennon' it's the same day he was born.

In response to the PMs regarding Kenton and asking why I didn't do a break-up scene: because I planned it that way for reasons obvious in this chapter.

I'm doing NaNoWriMo this year and might not be able to update for a while, but my goal is to get at least one more chapter out this month. If I don't see you until then, I'll be back in December. My NaNoWriMo profile name is cannibalsforhire, in case anybody is interested.

* * *

**So, Sally Can Wait**

* * *

_So I'll start the revolution from my bed_

_Cos you said the brains I had went to my head_

_Step outside 'coz summertime's in bloom_

_Stand up beside the fireplace_

_Take that look from off your face_

_You ain't ever gonna burn my heart out_

_-Oasis 'Don't Look Back In Anger'_

* * *

_Haymitch…_

The week following Alitza's visit has been one full of bits of news. As of now, I've heard rumors of widespread public protest in District 11, reports of women and young girls in District 9 rioting and being shot by Peacekeepers, and word of delayed electronics orders out of District 3. Like I expected, there isn't a single thing about it on television and Plutarch said that even the Capitol citizens aren't being told the truth.

General dissent and public unrest has been building and building for decades. What makes this different from every other year is the rapidity of it. I only hope that some of it dies down before the Victory Tour solely for the reason that it would be less troublesome to deal with the usual angry District people and grieving parents than a District near revolt. The boy is a natural before the cameras but the girl will only make the situation worse. A part of me wants to tell Katniss about the reality of the meaning behind the dual victory and her mockingjay pin but I know that it is unwise. Keeping the kids – all three of them – in the dark is best. Their safety is priority not only for me, but for the rebels.

Katniss's, that is. Peeta's, too. Ever's, not so much.

The Victory Tour is held five months after the previous Games end. It has been a little over three full months since District 12s 'star-crossed lovers' were crowned victors. The boy must know that she is faking it by now, and if he does, must have guessed that I've known all along. Perhaps that is the reason he hasn't stopped by very often.

The last thing that I want to do is get out of bed this morning – afternoon, semantics – but Katniss has made so much progress, I hate to skip a day right now. Mid- stretch and yawn, I hear a shrill scream from across the hall.

_Ever. _Without taking a second to grab my knife, I run down the hallway and into her bedroom. "What the fu-"

I don't know what I was expecting. A strange man threatening her? A psychotic break? All I know is that when I find her just sitting on her bed, wide-eyed and panic-stricken, I'm relieved.

"Sweetheart."

Ever closes her eyes and chokes as if holding back a sob. "It…it did the thing."

_The baby. _"What thing?"

"The racing ladybug thing, it _moved_," she covers her face with her hands, doesn't cry, but allows a single tear to slide down her cheek. "He, she, whatever. They're actually _there_."

"I know."

"No you don't," she hisses. "No, you were just being a little bitch about your girlfriend having your baby until you realized 'well damn, better act like a grownup!' You don't know and don't you even think about 'Ever Elizabeth'-ing me because you know it's true."

"I wasn't going to," I say, walking towards her bed and sitting at the foot.

I'm silent, she's silent. We both sit there and stare at each other until she leaps from her bed and scurries to her closet. Mumbling under her breath, she frantically pushes clothes around until she finds something satisfactory.

"How soon can we get more loose-fitting clothes?"

"Why?"

"To hide _this_," she hisses. "Yeah, you can't really tell I'm pregnant _yet,_ but pretty soon it's going to be obvious. I'd like to keep it a secret for as long as I can."

"Your mom was taller and few sizes bigger when she – ah, point is, I may have a _few_ of her things somewhere. What are you getting dressed for, anyway?"

"I'm going out. Need bread, I'm in the mood for candy, and you're getting really irritating so I may as well buy you more liquor."

* * *

_Ever…_

Nearly four months into this god-awful pregnancy, I shouldn't have been surprised when I felt the movements this morning. My mother's journal details her entire pregnancy, and despite her optimistic outlook on it, it's helped me get a feel of what's to come. Still, I was nowhere near prepared. There I was. Sitting on my bed, reading Nicholas Nickelby for the thousandth time, I was having a lovely time relaxing until it _moved_, actually moved. The movement itself was tiny – like the journal said it would be – and felt like a ladybug racing about.

What else could I do but scream?

Perhaps not the wisest decision, as my father came bursting in to my bedroom ready to beat someone senseless.

"What the fu-"

He stands in the doorway, stopping himself midswear. I cannot see for myself, but I must look absolutely prettified because he frowns and just says 'sweetheart,' nothing else.

"It…it did the thing," _Daddy make it stop, make it all go away._

"What thing?"

_My father is a dolt. _"The racing ladybug thing, it moved. He, she, whatever. They're actually _there_."

"I know."

"No you don't," I roll my eyes because how dare he say that knows. "No, you were just being a little bitch about your girlfriend having your baby until you realized 'well damn, better act like a grownup!' You don't know and don't you even think about 'Ever Elizabeth'-ing me because you know it's true."

"I wasn't going to," he says, walking towards my bed and sitting at the foot.

I don't want him to talk to me, not right now. I'm angry at him, angry at myself, angry at everything and everyone. The last thing that I want is to sit in this house with him, at least, not right now. Neither of us know what to say next and he's too stubborn to leave me be, so for the next five minutes or so, we stare at each other.

Up to the point where I grow far to agitated to stay here. I leap from my bed and hurry to my closet. We need a few things from town and I need some space from him just for an hour or four. Most of the items in my closest were purchased for style and not comfort; upon recognizing this, I continuously swear under my breath because in a few months they won't fit me. I need to fix this, and fast.

"How soon can we get more loose-fitting clothes?"

Daddy yawns and raises an eyebrow. "Why?"

"To hide this," I point to my belly. "Yeah, you can't really tell I'm pregnant yet, but pretty soon it's going to be obvious. I'd like to keep it a secret for as long as I can."

"Your mom was taller and few sizes bigger when she –" He hesitates about using the word 'died.' "– ah, point is, I may have a few of her things somewhere. What are you getting dressed for, anyway?"

"I'm going out. Need bread, I'm in the mood for candy, and you're getting really irritating so I may as well buy you more liquor."

Sometimes I like him better when he's liquored up. He doesn't protest, nor does he yell at me for what I'm sure he perceived as 'attitude.' I promise it isn't attitude – merely honesty.

District 12 is experiencing its first round of snow this fall-winter-spring. The seasons tend to blend together once summer passes. Ivy and I used to joke about how District 12 has five seasons- miserably muggy, this must be what autumn feels like, snow, more snow, and those two weeks in May. Lucky for the Seam families, though, the month and a half of snow is little flurries that maybe stick for a day or two. The blizzards don't come until the 'more snow' part, after the Victory Tour.

We always thought that our little joke was so clever, Ivy and I.

I miss my old friends, Ivy most of all, but I also miss her twin Joshua, Damien Gilead, and even Kenton before our failed doomed-from-the-start relationship. I suppose I could have done a nicer job breaking up with him, but I value honesty and: 'It's just not working out, sorry,' seemed polite enough. Besides, he wasn't exactly distraught, he understood perfectly, we shook hands and exchanged 'no hard feelings see you arounds,' and within weeks I saw a merchant's daughter, Lindy Klein, hanging off his arm. Kenton seems happy, I am happier without the feelings of guilt I harbored about him, and he gets to live on not knowing of the hell his childhood friend is living. It's a win-win for him and just another insignificant life event for me.

Josh Hopeflame has done an excellent job of avoiding me since his sister's demise. We interacted once, incidentally, when I went to bring wildflowers to her grave. She always liked wildflowers. Josh happened to be planning a visit to his twin's grave that same day and upon seeing me, threw his bunch of wildflowers to the ground, said 'goodbye, Ever' and walked away. He's fifteen now, older than me by nearly seven full months. I try not to think about him too much, about what I would say if I saw him again.

I hate thinking about people from my past; more than anything, it is painful. There is a reason that the past is called the past and the people in it are usually not in your present because they aren't supposed to be. At least that is what I tell myself to get through it: there's a reason my mom is dead, a reason I met Zayna, Zephyr, Asia, and Colton in the arena and they died, a reason why Josh and I no longer speak, a reason why Ivy is gone…I don't care who you are, nobody gets dealt cards that awful for no reason.

The chilly air blows through my hair, making it necessary to pull my scarf tighter and shove my hand in my pockets. Nearly out of Victor's Village, footsteps are fast approaching – running – toward me.

"Wait up," squeals a voice too happy to be Katniss and too small to be Delilah. "Ever, wait!"

_Hades in heels, it's Prim._

Prim, between the Everdeen sisters, is the most bearable. I like her. The only problem is that she's just so happy and free that truthfully it is too painful to be around her most of the time. When I was her age, I was a Hunger Games victor. In a few months, she will be as old as I was when Adiran Knox forced himself on me in that hotel room, and in a year, she'll be as old as I was when I fell pregnant. Primrose Everdeen may have grown up a Seam kid, and she may have lost her father in the last catastrophic mine explosion, and she may have gone to bed hungry for weeks at a time, but in all likelihood she will never know the hell that is prostitution, or face the reality that her life was never hers to begin with.

"Prim," I kick a pebble down the road.

She skips ahead until she's matching my pace. "Are you heading to town?"

"No, I am off to fight the patriarchy."

"I'll join you."

Suspicious about her sudden friendliness, I stop walking and grab her shoulder. "Why?"

"Reasons," Prim giggles. "The sun is shining, the first snow is melting, and you have to admit it is too beautiful a day to sit cooped up inside. I noticed you walking and decided to join you, problem?"

"No," I shrug, resigned to her tagging along. "I suppose not."

"Good! Where are we headed?"

"The bakery, the sweetshop, and The Hob – is there anywhere else that you need to go?"

"Nope," she says. "Only following you around today."

"Right then, errands. This way," I start walking again and she speedwalks to keep up.

Prim proves to be cheery company. Having experienced her own share of rotten luck and bearing witness to her sister's post-arena plight, she isn't naïve enough to talk to me like any old person would, but builds her sentences and chooses her words with careful calculation that to her is second nature by now. Funnily enough, Prim Everdeen is the person in Victor's Villages with whom I have the least in common, but out of the people whose surnames aren't Abernathy, the one I connect with best. We are not friends by any stretch of my imagination, but certainly have accepted the other's now permanent presence in each other's life.

Our trip to the bakery is a little awkward with Peeta's father but he is still kind and even allows a cookie to 'slip' in with our bread for Prim.

At The Hob, a woman just past child-bearing age is selling some baby things. I groan inwardly and look away. My companion inopportunely notices and tugs on my sleeve. "Don't you need to look for baby things soon?"

"Prim," I hiss and throw my hand over her mouth and pull her into the dimly lit corner near us. Slowly I removed my hand from her mouth and whisper, "Don't talk about that."

She is quick to apologize. "I forgot, sorry about saying that out loud."

I wave my hand dismissively and start walking back to the lighted areas of The Hob. "I may have overreacted with whole drag-the-girl-into-the-darkness thing."

"No, I understand why you don't want anybody knowing you're – "  
Prim looks around and continues. " – pregnant. I mean if I were a teen mom I'd keep it quiet, too."

I roll my eyes, grin, and laugh at her. "Geez, Prim. What part of 'don't talk about in public' do you not understand?"

"Sorry," she laughs. "But for what it's worth, I think you'll be a great mom."

My body stiffens. I should thank her, but how can I? Not only do I not believe her, I also don't want to be a mom. This was never what I wanted; it is tearing me apart, it is destroying my mental stability.

"We'll see," I say, figuring that her comment shouldn't be left ignored. "Hey, Prim. Take some money and buy something from someone; let's give these people some business, eh? I'm off to Ripper's to get my dad's stuff, meet me back at this spot in five minutes."

Prim takes the fistful of coins and scampers off to find somewhere to spend it. I usually find the most destitute person in the place and practically throw my money at them. As a breeze meanders its way through the drafty building, I rub my arms through my sweater and the heat of the friction helps just a smidge. Ripper is in the usual spot, liquor ready to be sold.

As usual, Ripper smiles at me when I approach her. "Ever dear, look at you! Child you are growing up on me more and more each time I see you."

"That's the funny thing about children, ma'am," I laugh with her when she hugs me. "We grow up."

"Yes," she pats my shoulder and slides three bottles of white liquor my way. "I suppose you do. Three won't be enough, will it?"

"You know Daddy."

She slides three more over and frowns. "Can you carry that all?"

"In these bags here," I gestures to my left wrist with my head. "I brought Prim with me, also. Well more like she followed me here, a bit like a tail. Keep the change."

Ripper shakes her head, insisting it isn't right. "Dearie, don't make me refuse your generosity."

"Then don't bother refusing it, ma'am. If you don't feel right about keeping all of it, find someone else to give some to. You know we don't need it."

The olive-skinned woman guffaws and lightly slaps my back, shaking her head. "That's right – Abernathy's of District 12, our local Richie Riches. Thank you, little lady. You run on home to your dad, I'm surprised he lets you out of his sight. Practically glued you to his side when you were a wee one."

I say goodbye to Ripper and slink over to the rendezvous point. Five minutes has to have come and gone but it isn't important, I don't mind waiting. Patiently, I stand and stare at my feet to pass the time. A hand slides it's was almost sexually across my back and I almost drop the liquor bottles.

"I hear drinking is bad for the baby," a female voice whispers into my ear.

My breath catches in combination of horror and relief. "A-Alitza."

"Hey," she smirks. "So you're knocked up, eh?"

"Wow, that was so sensitive and not brazen at all," I roll my eyes at her because it is the only way I can think of to keep the panic hidden and at bay. "How did you –"

"I overheard you talking to the new victor girl's sister, but don't you worry. I was the only one who heard."

_Why isn't she judging me? I'm not sure if she is being real… _"I can, I can explain. I can –"

"Whoa, Ever, honey, baby. Calm your fool self and realize that you don't owe nobody no explanations," Alitza shrugs and gestures to the door. "Unless you really want to give me one, but not today. We will have another come across soon, I'm sure. Besides, I lost my virginity when I was about your age. Ain't no shame."

"In my case there is," I mumble. "How I envy you."

Alitza frowns. "Don't tell me Mr. A slut-shamed you. Your dad seems far too cool to do that; do I need to kick his ass?"

If it weren't for the seriousness of the subject I would be laughing my head off at the notion of a Seam girl beating up my dad, partially because I could honestly see the Seam girl winning. "Daddy, slut-shaming? No, nothing like that."

"Then what has you all shamey-shamey?"

"I thought you said you didn't want an explanation?"

"I lied."

I don't know why Alitza Sparrowman and I ever had to cross paths but I am grateful that we did. In the near future, I could see myself considering her a friend and a part of me is dying to tell somebody with a fresh perspective of my unusual predicament. Admittedly, it would be great to have a friend outside of the broken, messed up circle of victors to confide in. At the same time, that friend could easily turn on me and make me feel even worse about my situation than I already do. My usual confidant is Finnick but he isn't here. I can't come to him for a pep talk, a hug, or a snuggly sleepover in his room because I don't wish to be alone. Finn is all the way in District 4, Alitza is here in District 12. She has kept her involvement with my family secret thus far, surely I can trust her. What if trusting her is a mistake, though? A bit of a long-ago conversation between me and Finn crosses my mind: _I'd rather make mistakes than do nothing. Remember hon, it is a thousand times better to make mistakes than to make nothing at all. You learn from mistakes and sometimes it really sucks but that's just life. _I know that he did not have this situation in mind when he told me this, but the advice is still applicable.

There are few people in this world that I trust explicitly: Finn, my father, and to some degree, Chaff, Seeder, Eri, and Raewyn. Ivy was on that list before she died, Alitza Sparrowman is not. But how does one know who to trust until a little of it is given?

"It's a long story," I say, wincing as another ladybug movement occurs from inside of me. I doubt that I will get used to that anytime in the foreseeable future. "And complicated."

"You don't know the father," she notes. "At least not well. He isn't from around here, is he?"

"The Capitol…I think."

"You think?"

"I'm a prostitute," I say bluntly, taking the rip-off-the-band-aid approach. "Surprise!"

Alitza frowns at my not-so-jokey joke. "That isn't funny, Ever. Some of us actually do sell ourselves to Peacekeepers because we have no other choice."

I'm speechless, I'm completely dumbstruck. Alitza? A part-time prostitute? Goodness, she must be one of Cray's girls. "You-"

"Have sex with a couple Peacekeepers now and gain, yeah. It keeps my family fed, you know," she shakes her head at me. "I can't believe that you would joke about that."

"It wasn't a joke," I say. "The victors, we, well most us, we…" I trail off because how can I possibly explain this to her, to anyone?

She still doesn't believe me, as I expected. "No way, you victors just feel like prostituting yourself for the hell of it?"

"Finnick Odair," I say without thinking. He is the most well-known slut in Panem and if I'm going to explain the victor sex trade to anybody, he would be the example. "What do you know of him?"

"He won his Games young," she humors me. "He's a man-ho now, sleeps with a bunch of women in the Capitol, breaks their hearts, the playboy of Panem. Why?"

"Do you think that he would do all of that by choice?"

Alitza ponders it for a second. "I'd like to think that he wouldn't, but he may be into the whole rainbow-colored skin thing. I hear it's a fetish, the rainbows."

"He doesn't, I don't, none of us do. Nobody ever actually wins the Games, Alitza. They stole the childhoods of every last victor including the brutal Careers. As if the arena isn't bad enough, we go home thinking maybe, just maybe, we can learn to be ourselves again until one day, President Snow shows up at our house, or during the Victory Tour requests to see us in his presidential office because he has a proposition," I explain. "'Our people are interested in you…sexually,' and we're offered the job of courtesan…well I say _offered_. More like bullied, using our friends' and families' lives over our heads. Refuse and they die, accept and they live."

Her face pales. "You're telling the truth, I can sort of tell."

"I am."

"So, you're pregnant –"

"Sh," I hiss. "Our entire conversation up until that point was whispered. Keep whispering!"

"Right, so you're pregnant," she makes a point to whisper, even mouth her words. "By some Capitol perv who paid Snow a bunch of money to stick his 21st digit in your lady zone?"

"Oh, you're the type to use euphemisms for sex, aren't you? Joy," I sigh. "Yes, that is exactly what happened."

"Do you-"

"Not his name, no. Not a clue," I say bitterly. "If I did, he'd be dead by now, courtesy of my army of victors."

"Couldn't you have said no?"

"At the expense of the people I love, yeah."

Alitza shakes her head in disgust and disbelief. She pulls me in for an awkward hug that we both agree should never happen again. "I didn't know," she apologizes. "Being a victor isn't all they crack it up be, is it?"

"Nothing like it," I say. "Nothing."

* * *

_Haymitch…_

Plutarch's latest message is burning in the fireplace, edges of the paper curling and disintegrating while I downed a glass of liquid novocain. The alcohol never does stop burning, but the taste is something that became acquired over the years. I wish I could say the same for the Games, in a way. It would make them a bit less of a hell on Earth.

_Preparations are being made for the Third Quarter Quell, _Plutarch wrote in a sort of encrypted way. _Unrest likely, contents of Quell card still unknown._

Quarter Quell, great Hades. All I can think of is my own Games and how hard it is going to be for the Capitol to top reaping double the tributes. With forty-eight players in Game it was nothing short of a miracle that I survived. Too bad I don't believe in miracles.

The Second Quarter Quell only brings back memories of Maysilee, her screams still fresh in my memory. The dead bodies on my mother and little Seamus, the images burned into my mind forever. Maysilee Donner is one of my deepest regrets. A part of me wishes that I did not come running at her screams so that I would never have had to witness those candy pink birds skewer her neck. Or better yet, she should have won. Maysilee would have taken it better, I know she would have – nobody could possibly become the wreck that I am.

The only solace I can take in the upcoming Quell is that I know that my Ever is safe this year. Once a child is reaped once, they are ineligible to be reaped again. I always thought that she would be chosen for the Quarter Quell. The Capitol would have eaten that up, the whole 'like-father-like-daughter' thing. _She's safe, _I think to myself, smiling like a fool. All that I have to worry about concerning my daughter is the usual and the pregnancy issue, but I'd take a pregnant teenage daughter over a Quarter Quell participant daughter any day.

_Unrest likely, _Plutarch wrote. Perhaps this year's Quell will be gruesome enough to set the revolution into full swing. Most likely not, but a man can dream, can't he? It would take nothing short of a gross bending of the rules to anger those who aren't already of our mindset.

It is mid-January. In two months, there will be the Victory Tour, and, April 15th will be Ever's fifteenth birthday, and three months and a couple weeks after that will be both the Quarter Quell and Ever's estimated due date. I make a face at the thought of poor Ever actually going through labor and childbirth, especially if it happens in District 12 where there are no doctors, no pain medications, and no proper medical care. I just have to remember how much pain Rose looked like she was in to think of how terrifying it would be for her.

_One thing at a time, Abernathy._ I'm supposed to worry about revolution, not childbirth at the moment. District 7 is waiting for Plutarch's message to be passed along with their next coal shipment. I code the message, I pass it to Mayor Undersee who then passes it along to whoever the hell operate the coal shipments. For security's sake, even I do not know everything.

This revolution has to work, it has to. I realize how unlikely it is, but maybe, just maybe if we can convince the right people to join the right side, we can take down the Capitol. Maybe, if our efforts are a thousand and one times greater than during the Dark Days, we have a chance.

* * *

Only a few more pre Victory Tour chapters!


	91. Overcome

Time skip of about a month.

I wanted to add some fluffy stuff about Finnick's family in D4, briefly touch on Katniss and Haymitch's relationship (since in MJ it is implied that he loves her and Peeta like they were his own) so here it is!

I highly recommend the fic _Eradication _by Mocking Verse. It's currently ongoing and I have been reading it and all I have to say is - wow. The main OC is compelling and the writing quality is great.

* * *

**Overcome**

* * *

_We shall overcome, we shall overcome, _

_We shall overcome some day_

_Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe we shall overcome some day_

_We shall all be free, we shall all be free, _

_We shall all be free some day_

_Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe we shall overcome some day_

_- Peter, Paul & Mary "We Shall Overcome"_

* * *

_Ever…_

"How're the hormones?"

"Threatened Daddy with a knife the other day," I giggle nervously.

Alitza snorts, "Why?"

"He would not get me turnips."

"_Turnips, Ever?_"

"Cravings!"

My new found friend rolls her eyes and playfully nudges me with her foot as we lie on opposite ends of my bed. "Any random crying fits?"

"A couple," I admit. "I can't wait until I am done with this. Being pregnant sucks."

"Have you thought of names yet?" asks Alitza from the foot of my bed.

"Hell no," I snort, propping my feet up on her back. "I don't even know what I am having."

The older girl raises an eyebrow and grins. "So you are keeping him?"

I shrug because the answer isn't no but also isn't yes. "I am only four months pregnant; which means I still have five months to decide."

"Give or take two weeks," Alitza snorts.

Alitza's supportiveness has not ceased to shock me since the day I was practically forced to tell her about my pregnancy. I honestly was not expecting it, but, I am grateful for it all the same. The only other friend of mine that knows lives in District 4 and it is great having somebody at home other than my father to talk to, especially since I have hardly seen him at all these past two weeks. He has been busy with Victory Tour preparations seeing as it is almost time – it's only three and a half weeks away.

"So," she says, rolling over from her back to her side. "Are you still a jittery ball of nerves?"

"Not as much, but yeah. I mean, I'm still getting used to the idea."

"But you _are _warming up to the idea?"

"Some," I admit. "I'm not like ecstatic or anything, but reality is sinking in."

"Hm, I guess that's a good sign. Well," she rolls off of my bed onto the floor and takes her time stretching and standing up. "I should go. Got to wake up before the sun to go work in those damn mines."

"They haven't figured out that you aren't your sister, yet?"

For the past week, Alitza has been going into the mines and working, pretending to be her older sister, Sobel. Alitza, at nineteen, is only two years younger than her coal miner sister who supposedly looks like her twin. The mysterious illness that has been going around the Seam has kept Sobel in bed and therefore unable to go into the mines. Miners rarely take off work because no work means no pay, no pay means no food, and no food means you die. Luckily, for the Sparrowman family, Alitza is a dead ringer for Sobel, especially with the dim lighting of the mines. With a little coal dust on her face, who would know the difference?

Alitza seems quite pleased with herself when she answers. "Nope," she smirks. "Not at all. I do hope she gets better soon. Would you believe it? I prefer having sex with peacekeepers to keep my family alive to mining."

"Mining must be absolutely miserable, then."

"Oh honey, it is."

:-:

_Haymitch simply will not let her out of his sight, _my mother wrote in her journal: the entry is dated July 17th, a few days after I had turned three months old.

_He has become quite the baby hog; it is just far too cute. I rarely see him without Ever sleeping in his arms, unless he's lazing about on the couch, in which case she is on his chest. Even when she wakes us both with her cries in the middle of the night he is quick to respond to her. Sometimes, I worry that he feels like he needs to make it up to me about him not wanting her at first. I hope that is not the reason why he is being so devoted. To be honest, I understand why he felt that way. I'm just happy that he's happy now and that he loves little Ever Elizabeth just as much as I do. _

_I still cannot believe that the little baby sleeping in the cot beside me is mine. Perhaps what I am most excited for is what I am dreading the most. My daughter growing up. I am excited to see what kind of young woman she becomes, but at the same time, I want to just wait until she is a toddler and keep her as such forever. Raising a daughter is certainly going to be a challenge, but I think I will enjoy it. The – _I can't read the rest of the entry, at least, not tonight.

My mother was so excited about me, so eager to be my mom but she didn't get the chance and it's just so unfair. It is making me sad, so I flip back a few pages and read one of my favorite entries, dated July 3rd:

_What do you say when a man asks you to marry him? If your name is Rose Fairchild, you accuse him of being drunk and tell him to ask you again in the morning. I am mortified, like, I still cannot believe that I was that stupid. Though, in hindsight, it was actually pretty sweet._

_Haymitch does not drink quite as much as he did now that we have Ever to take care of, but, I'd be stupid to think that the man wouldn't have a glass or two or three if he had the chance. Last night, he had a glass and a half of something (I am pretty sure it was whiskey), and while he did not seem very drunk he was much more...happy, I guess. Like the happy that people get when they are just starting to get drunk. _

_I'm getting embarrassed all over again just by writing it!_

_Anyway, I went to bed earlier than usual and he joined me soon after and pulled me close to him like he always does. I almost fell asleep while he absentmindedly played with my hair but then he whispered, "Rose, you awake?"_

"_Barely," I laughed sleepily. "Why?"_

"_Reasons," he said, pulling me even closer and kissing me. "Rose?"_

"_Mm hm."_

"_I love you."_

"_Yes, I love you too, Haymitch."_

"_No," he shook his head. "I. I really, completely love you, so much so, that it sometimes scares me. I hate getting close to people, it is by far one of the stupidest things a person can do. Except for you, Rose. You are everything that I could have wanted, and more than I deserve."_

"_Stop it you," I laughed and leaned my head against his chest, unapologetically taking advantage of his body warmth. "You're making me blush."_

"_Rose," he whispered with excitement in his tired voice. "Marry me."_

_I laughed at him and playfully pushed him away. "Haymitch, you have had a few drinks. If you still feel the same way in the morning ask me again."_

_He kissed me and pulled me closer to whisper, "I will."_

_Not for one second did I think that he was serious. I thought he was just drunk and saying stupid things, 'oh typical Haymitch,' I remember thinking. The last thing that I expected was to wake up and have him reach under his pillow and open up a little black box. Do you know what Haymitch Abernathy had the nerve to say to me?_

"_This is a legitimate proposal, Rose," with that stupid grin on his face that I love and, ohhhh my gosh, he actually proposed to me. He did not get down on his knee or anything, and why would he? If he was going to propose to me, he was going to do it his way and why would I say no? Was it unconventional? Absolutely. But Haymitch and I have never been conventional, have we?_

I always enjoy reading that entry because it exposes a side of my father that I don't think I have ever seen and gives me a nice image of what my parents' relationship was like. Daddy clearly adored her and she loved him so completely that not even his alcoholism got in the way. Perhaps that entry should make me feel sad, thinking about the complete family that I would have had, but it actually makes me happy to know that while they had each other, they were truly happy. Besides, isn't happiness all that a person can hope for?

The now familiar sensation of little nameless moving around makes me flinch as it always does. Now, however, it is more so out of surprise than disgust. I still am not sure what I want to do once the baby is born. Maybe I can learn to love her. Him. Whatever. At this point, I tolerate the poor little thing, and that is more than I can say about my attitude a month ago.

* * *

_Haymitch…_

Katniss sits at her dining table and stares straight ahead. "Why do we even have to do this Victory Tour?"

"Because the Capitol wants to parade their victors around like show and tell," I say. "How is Cinna doing with your talent?"

"Coming along," she says.

Effie had come up with a long list of talents for Katniss to try – flower arranging, playing the flute, dancing, sculpting, and had even suggested that Ever teach her to play the piano but she outright refused. Katniss did not have a knack for any of Effie's talents but Cinna offered to help her with her 'interest' in fashion design.

Her post-victory progress has been happening slowly. But it is happening. I am over at hers and Peeta's more than I am in my own home these days. I have not seen Ever in nearly a week since she is always in bed by the time I get home and out somewhere with Alitza, Prim, or some of the friends she has met through Alitza by the time I wake up. She keeps the liquor supply full, and occasionally, she remembers to go shopping. I want to be home with her, but now that she is not quite so self-loathing as she was a month ago I feel like there is no need to hover over her like an ominous cloud.

Besides, there is Katniss to worry about. With the Victory Tour coming next month Katniss has to be prepared for the cameras. She will need to be armed with a façade, a smile, and a warm attitude. Peeta does not need advice; the boy is a natural. Katniss is a different story. Although she is in her damaged state it is hard for her to not come across as bitter. Bitter or not, I have found myself starting to actually care about her and talking to her is more of a responsibility than a bothersome chore.

Not one piece of rebel correspondence has passed through my hands in the past month. I do not take it as a bad sign; there have been longer quiet spells. I went without hearing anything between the 65th and 66th Hunger Games, aside from one brief message during Finnick's Victory Tour.

I find myself constantly thinking about the Victory Tour and hoping that nothing will happen to force me to reveal the plans of revolution to my daughter. It will be a little easier protecting her when she is naïve than if she knows sensitive information. I keep thinking, _what if? _What if we are discovered? What if Snow hurts her even more to get to me? What if I reveal information to her and she is arrested? There are too many 'if it goes wrong' scenarios in my head and all of them have to deal with losing my daughter. I have come close to it two too many times in the past few years, and damn my soul if I let it happen again when she is more vulnerable than before.

Five months to go...more or less.

* * *

_Finnick…_

"You should name the baby Finnick," I say not even remotely serious.

"But what if it's a girl?" Ever laughs from the other end of the line.

"Same thing, we can make it a girls' name," I laugh. "But in all seriousness, I'm betting on it being a girl – mostly because I really want to call her Ever 2.0 when she's beings heaps annoying."

"How so?"

"Well," I say. "When she demands that I play fairy princess."

Ever feigns offense. "Hey! I made you play fairy princess."

"Do go doing your block now," I tease.

"Nah, but my friend Alitza keeps asking me 'names, names?' and I'm just like, 'um…' it's too much work, naming a person."

I laugh at her as the front door of my house opens. In steps Polly and I hold up a finger and mouth 'one minute, kid.' "Hey, no dramas, hon. Tell you what, if you name her something that is completely horrible, I'll help you fix it."

"Who determines if it is horrible?"

"Obviously me. See," I say. "This is how you know that you made a good choice in a friend. Not only do I look out for you in the present, I make sure your kid won't hate her for sticking her with a stupid name like…hm, what horrible names do I know? Oh, wait, stars with an E…"

Ever giggles and I imagine she rolls her eyes. "You are a butt."

"Hear that Polly?" I say to my niece, sticking my tongue out at her. "You're a butt because you showed up an hour before you said you would.

"Finn," Ever gasps. "Polly is there? What are still doing talking to me?"

"Just wanted to make sure you were all right – are you?"

"Fine," she says. "Have fun with Polly, maybe it'll be good practice for how to properly play with children."

"Oi," I say. "We got on just fine when you were a little Halfling."

A short chuckle on the other end followed by, "Yes, because pulling pranks on Enobaria and Gloss is perfectly responsible."

~.*~.*~.*

Polly Odair is so much like my brother that it scares me. The way she replies with, 'so what, loser' when I tell her she is over an hour early is just so Mack. I think of all the times I've heard _him _call me that, both affectionately and out of cruelty:

'_Oi, pick up those oysters you dropped you loser!'_

'_Loser, go on, have my last piece of birthday cake. I'd rather you be the fat one.'_

'_Nobody picks on my baby brother but me – right, loser?'_

'_Nice job, idiot. You went and got yourself chosen for The Hunger Games. Just come home, okay? What other loser am I going to mess with, huh?"_

Polly skips over to me and tugs on my hand. "Uncle Fiiiiiinn," she whines, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Come oooon, let's go to the beach! You saaaaaaid."

"Did you walk all the way here by yourself?"

"Uh huh, I told Papa that my big sissy was going to walk me but she went to hang out with her boyfriend instead and I just didn't tell him," Polly seems pleased with herself for pulling the wool over her dad's eyes. "Piggyback!"

I sigh and bend down so Polly can hop on my back. "Kick me in the balls this time kid, and I swear, I really do, that you are shark bait," I say on our way out the door.

"What kind of shark bait?"

"What do you mean what kind?"

"What kind of _shark_?"

"What kind of shark do you want to eat you?"

"Hammerheads, they look ugly. Like my brothers."

"Great white it is," I chuckle, turning a corner. There is beach access by Victor's Village, but I'd rather take her to a public beach so she can find other kids.

"I said hammerhead! Uncle Finn," Polly says, pulling my hair. "How much further?"

"Ow! You are a sadistic little monster, you know that? Considering we haven't left my house more than two minutes ago…shut up and be patient."

Polly giggles and tells me to hold on tighter. "I gots to get a thing outsa my pocket." She fiddles around in her pocket and tells me to close my eyes.

I feel something cover my eyes and I slap her arms from my face and back to my shoulders. "Polly what are you doing?"

"It's a blindfold, I have a surprise but you need to be blindfolded. And you still have to piggyback me."

"I'll trip and fall and drop you," I warn.

Polly shakes her head at me and pokes me in the eye. "No you won't," she ties the blindfold around my eyes once I relax and allow her to. "Daddy will kill you if I get brain damage."

"You were much nicer a few months ago," I tell her. "Just so you know."

"At least I'm not creepy like my brothers and sisters," Polly says singsong, double-knotting the blindfold. This was true, her siblings are all pretty creepy and have serial killer potential. Last time I came over for dinner:

Lexer, age 3, walked up to me and said, "You should take off your pants, now." Erasmus, age 7, apparently just having had the 'boys and girls have different genitalia' talk with his father, told me that he hoped I didn't lose my penis because I couldn't be a boy without a penis and I'd have to grow 'girl privates', which, he added, was impossible so I would just have to die instead.

Theora, age 5, whipped her head around rather quickly while she helped me dry the desert plates and said, "Uncle Finn, you would look a lot better dead in my closet," and paused and added, "That's what the hanging man told me to tell you."

Fern, age 2, threw her baby doll in the oven and yelled at me, "The baby wants to take my skin. I need to kill it." Braydon, not even one yet, doesn't talk much but he did get his hands on a butter knife and chucked it at me and cried when it missed.

It must just be Mack's children, because I don't remember any other kids I've met being quite that disturbing. I literally will not be surprised is one or all of them turn out to be serial killers. Mack's family has put me off of the idea of parenthood for at least the next century. Kids, no way.

"Polly, you _do _plan on telling me when I need to turn corners, right?"

"Mm hm," Polly mumbles. "Keep walking Uncle.

I turn left when she says turn, I wait for people with carts of fish to pass by when she says stop, and finally I smell the ocean strong enough to deduce that we are near a beach. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," Polly singsonged. "Daddy told me so."

"He what?"

"Sh," she hisses. "You'll see. You have to walk up a few stairs now, just three, go!"

_One, two, three. _"Now what?"

Polly hops off of my back and runs about two feet ahead of me. I hear a banging noise repeat itself a couple times and recognize it as somebody knocking on a door. "Grandpa should be ho-"

"What!" I exclaim, trying to tear the blindfold off but the kid is a good knot-tier. I reach behind my head and begin to untie it and the door opens just as I start to pull it from my eyes. _This is my childhood home, all right._

I don't know what I am expecting when the door opens. A frail old man? The young, strong father I remembered? Anger? A hug? I am afraid but do not know why. Whatever I am dreading it does not come. Before I know it, my father, something between frail and the man I always knew, has his arms around my neck.

"Finnick," he laughs out of, of all things, _joy. _"It has been too long. I was starting to think you had forgotten about your old man."

"Father, of course not! I just…" I pause, realizing that there is no good enough answer to give him for not paying a visit in nearly three years. "…I have no excuse. Forgive me?"

My father just shakes his head. His smile is the same as it always was, and his age is really only evidenced by his dark hair graying. "There is nothing to forgive, son. You're here now – and look! – you brought Polly with you."

"No he didn't! Uncle did not bring me," Polly says, apparently offended. "_I _brought Uncle 'cuz Daddy told me to."

"Thank you, then, dear," my father says, picking Polly up and kissing her nose. "Don't just stand there, come in, come in! Would you like something to eat?"

I open my mouth to tell him that I am not hungry, but when I step inside, I can smell food already cooking. "I don't want to be any trouble," I say.

"Nonsense, I am already making clam chowder. It lasts me a few days here by myself," he smiles. "My cooking isn't like your mother's was, but I promise it is passable."

Polly taps my shoulder to give me warning before she crawls into my lap and whispers, "Nobody cooks worse than my daddy, not even Grandpa."

I play with Polly's hair to keep from saying what I am about to say, but, my fatal flaw, I was never one to bite my tongue. "I don't like how you live here all alone."

"Don't you worry about me, Finnick," and I don't stop him when he quickly changes the subject. "I heard you and Macklin are acting like brothers again?"

"Yes sir, we have Friday night dinners at his."

A gleam appears in his blue eyes and his grin is more genuine than it has ever been. Actually, I am willing to bet that he has not smiled like this since my mother died. "I," he says. "Have been waiting too long to hear that. Life is far too short for you boys to be fighting."

I open my mouth to tell him that although I agreed with him, Mack said some very hurtful things to me that were more than enough to tarnish our relationship, but Father shoots me a look that shuts me up before I can utter a word. "In any case," I settle on. "We made up. Well, for the most part we did, we haven't actually talked about the fight and the shunning."

Father smiled as Polly yanked a throw pillow from his side and played with it. "Do you want to?"

I shrug, because, honestly? My desire to talk about it isn't exactly burning and Mack's isn't, either. "Don't know," I say. "Not particularly. Father, you know how we are. We don't talk about _feelings_," I say the word like it's a curse for his entertainment. "And we especially don't talk about our relationship."

"Men are not wired for serious conversations," Father says with a hint of laughter in his voice. "We just punch each other in the face and come back the next day and get over it."

"Or nearly a decade later," I mumble. "In his case."

"Yours as well," Father replies rather deliberately. "Son, it takes two to cause a falling out."

"You're right," I say like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar. Though, I cannot recall what I had ever done wrong during mine and my brother's falling out, aside from not dying in the arena and saying a few hurtful things in retaliation to his.

"Never mind that now," Father says. "Look at you! You look like hell. Mags did warn me but I was not expect-"

_Mags did warn me…_which confirms my suspicions that Mags has been talking to my father, quite regularly, without telling me. I'm not exactly angry, just confused as to why he would go to her for updates on my life instead of coming to me. "How long have you and Mags been comparing notes?"

"Since you won," Father answers without hesitating. "I am not stupid, even when I still lived with you, I knew that there were myriads of things you were not telling us –" us being he and my late mother "- about. We asked Mags to tell us what she felt we needed to know about you. Anybody could see that she was privy to most of what we were not."

Reality takes a moment to sink in. Since my mother died, Father has barely been able to look at me, yet, he goes to Mags. "That is the first time you have hinted at Mom without choking up in year," I say, immediately biting my tongue after I say it.

"Yes," he smiles. "It is, isn't it?"

Most of me is pleased but there is still a small bit of me that is rather incensed. He will deny it until the day he dies if anybody asks, but after my mother died, he could barely stand to look at me. I could not help but to associate my existence with his pain. So, for his happiness, I withdrew myself from his life as much as I could even though it felt like I had lost my last remaining family member.

Now I find out that he has been asking Mags about me?

"Stop blaming yourself," Father says quietly but with authority and suddenly I am a child again. "Havana would have died even if you had been able to convince Snow to let you pay for Capitol medical care. She was too sick to have gotten any better."

I say nothing because I have nothing to say that he has not heard before: _I should have tried harder from the start, it's not fair, Mom was too good a person, I can't stop feeling guilty, _etcetera.

"What else is on your mind?"

_Typical selfless Teague Odair, _I think with an air or sass directed at him. That is one trait, along with his modesty, that neither I nor my brother has inherited. How two people as humble and self-sacrificing as our parents could have ended up with two arrogant, selfish, jackasses for sons is beyond me. Oh, if Mack and I care about somebody, we would lay down our lives for them…but our parents? They always were willing to sacrifice for perfect strangers.

I remember, one year, the fish just were not willing to be caught and people like my father barely could keep their families alive. We had a small advantage with my mother being the music teacher – her income was just enough to keep us alive – but it was small. There was a man in the streets of town with his daughter, younger than I was at the time, who was clearly hit harder than my father was by the fishing industry's bad luck and he could not afford to buy any of the food he needed for his daughter. Mom whispered something in Father's ear and before Mack and I could ask them what they were talking about, Father walked over to the man, smiled, said something and gestured to his daughter, and demanded he take his money. Neither of my parents ate but one small meal the following three days, but not once did they complain, either.

Money virtually grows on trees for me, I have more than I know what to do with, and I still do not give it away like I should. Not to say that I do not give money, because, in large amounts, I do. But it is not out of love and generosity toward my fellow man like it was when my parents did it. Rather, it is for the purpose of keeping their sunken, sorrowful eyes from boring holes into my soul, which, melodramatic as it sounds is what it feels like they are doing.

"I should be asking you," I say. "I am the one who hasn't been visiting. How can you do nothing but care about how I am holding up when I haven't even..." I trail off, honestly very ashamed that I have not.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty…" I pause briefly, wanting to say two, three, and four all at once. "Three."

"It does not matter how old you are, or long it has been since we have last been close. You and your brother will always be my boys," Father says as he adjusts an unusually silent Polly in his lap. "Now are you going to tell me what is on your mind or are you going to keep it all bottled up?"

"Talking to you can't hurt," I say with a smile. "Can it?"

Father frowns for a moment and says, "Is it about what they make you do in the Capitol?"

"Not really," I can say honestly. "I am used to it, so much so, that it does not bother me anymore." _As long as it is happening to me and not my friends._

"Then Annie," he says knowingly.

I clench my fists not in anger at him but at myself. "Partially, yes. Mags told you?"

Father nods. "She tells me what I need to know about you, son. So go on, start talking – this one's fallen asleep."


	92. Brave

A/N: Here we are! Victory Tour! Some quotes of Katniss, Peeta, Effie, and Haymitch are taken directly from the Catching Fire book and movie and others are paraphrased. Some are made up, and everything Ever's is original.

* * *

**Brave**

* * *

_Say what you wanna say_

_And let the words fall out_

_Honestly I wanna see you be brave_

_~ Sara Bareilles "Brave"_

* * *

_Ever…_

I barely recognize myself as I stand before my full-length mirror. Though this is not my victory tour, my prep team and stylist went overboard with making me beautiful. They commented on my pregnancy and I had to threaten them with slow, painful deaths to keep them from calling the Capitol gossip rags with the scoop. My wardrobe for the two week tour was designed to keep my pregnancy under wraps. Every outfit I am to wear consists of a dress that was at least mostly a dark color and each dress was a loose, comfortable fit. I have a collection of long coats to choose from, some of which were designed to look bulkier than they actually are to disguise any 'weight gain' as the coat.

Fortunately, I am, as Raewyn put it last time I called her, one of those skinny bitches who looks like they swallowed a grapefruit. Six months pregnant, give or take a week, and Daddy says I'm barely bigger than my mother was at four. This entire pregnancy has gone by with much less weight gain and a smaller baby bump than I anticipated. I began to worry that something was wrong with either me or the baby, which is why I took to phoning Raewyn in the first place.

'_It's normal to have a smaller bump for a first time pregnancy,' she said. 'Well not normal, there is no typical pregnancy, but it certainly isn't a cause for concern.'_

'_Did that happen to you?'_

'_No, because I was pregnant with my twins the first time around, but all of my nieces and nephews came from somewhere,' she laughed and quickly went back to being serious. 'You are perfectly fine, don't get your knickers in a twist sweetie.'_

I could have walked across the street to talk to Delilah Everdeen but I would prefer to avoid Katniss whenever I can. I tackled her once. Twice. On two separate occasions, Katniss said the wrong thing at the wrong time in the wrong tone of voice to a pregnant, hormonal, angry monster posing as Ever Abernathy. For the sake of all humanity, it is best that I avoid Katniss until this Victory Tour mess has died down. Our disdain for each other has waned to some degree but we are not friends. Personality clashes are a regular occurrence. All of this in mind, Mrs. Everdeen is out as a constant go-to for pregnancy advice. There are no other women in 12 that I trust to keep it a secret, so, calling our mom of far too many in District 9 is my best option.

"Ever, it is time to go," my father knocks on my open door.

I don't respond as I am still too busy studying my body in the mirror. Slowly, I move my hands down my sides as I admire the outfit and how well it serves my purpose of secrecy. The dress is long sleeved, plum purple, loose-fitting, and stops just at my knees. To combat the cold, underneath my dress are black wool tights and black fitted slip, and the insides of my black boots are lined with wool, as is the interior of the black duffle coat. Wool gloves protect my hands, a woolen scarf is around my neck, and a matching black hat completes the outfit.

For a victor's outfit, even if the victor is just a mentor, it is drab. Knowing the Capitol they will turn it into a style trend, regardless of my intentions for it to not catch on. They will probably gush how 'EvAb's simplistic style highlights her natural beauty and complements her body shape while straddling that line between a teenager and a young woman.' EvAb. I hate that the magazines call me that. How lazy is it that they do not even bother spelling out my name?

"Sweetheart –"

"I know," I interrupt, turning my head to smile at him. "I just really hope this plan works. Keeping her a secret."

"You think it's a girl, now?"

"I don't know," I shrug. "I use both pronouns. How do you think he'd feel if she found out I called her by the wrong pronoun throughout the _entire _pregnancy? At least this way I am right fifty percent of the time."

My father isn't stupid, I am sure he's noticed that I am currently leaning toward keeping the baby once he or she is born, and so far, he seems to agree. Personally, I believe that he has always wanted me to keep it and that he has kept his opinion to himself on the matter.

"I think that the plan will work," he tries to reassure me. "Now come on, we have to go to train station."

"I don't need help walking down the stairs," I tell him when he tries to take my hand.

"What about the ice, you might fall and hurt yourself," he points out.

"I can fall and hurt myself when I'm not pregnant, as well. However, you only seem to be concerned now. Were you this annoying when Mom was pregnant?"

"Worse."

Despite how insulting it is that he mistrusts my balance that much, I let him take my arm and walk to the station with me anyway. I shiver, not even the wool in my clothing protects me from the cold, and cling to him for his warmth. Staying home was always an option, and in fact I came quite close to not tagging along on the Tour, but I realized how lonely I would be without my father and remembered that although it is now discouraged for victors to meet on the Tour, Finnick, Eri, Chaff, and Raewyn would all find some way to see me and deliver their birthday gifts. I insisted they not worry about getting anything for me, but they wouldn't hear it, especially not Finnick. I give you a gift every year, he said. I then pointed out that I never get him anything for _his _birthday, but he responded to that by saying that since he was older, and male, it was his duty to spoil the young lady.

The men in my life love me more than I deserve. It puzzles me to no end because I don't see anything exceptionally lovable about me. I would attribute the affection to pity, but if the only pitied me it wouldn't be to that degree. Finnick killed men for me, my father, unbeknownst to me until this past year's Games, endured a few years of prostitution because Snow threatened my life, and Chaff once struck the fear of the devils into the heart of a Career victor's son when I was small because he kept pulling on my braids. Sometimes I feel nothing but a gigantic (extra gigantic as of late) burden on everyone; I'm essentially useless and I'm just…there. My father says that he wouldn't be able to live without me, but I know he could.

~.*~.*~.*

He's getting antsy, a bit too antsy to my comfort.

"You know, kid," I mumble to her. "After being pregnant with you for – what, six months now? – one would assume that you could express your gratitude by _sitting still when I'm trying to nap._"

The door to the room I claimed as my own slides open and my father walks in, a mostly full bottle in his hand and the ghost of laughter on his face. "That's the thing about kids."

"What is?"

"They're a pain in the ass, always."

"I love you too, Daddy!"

He waves at me to slide over so he can sit on the edge of the bed. "Honesty tears you apart, sweetheart."

"Did you just _rhyme? _That is the last straw, I'm afraid I have no choice but to disown you."

He clicks his tongue at me and grins playfully. "That's the funny thing about disowning people, Ever dear. The repudiation is only valid if it is the parent disowning the child, and last time I checked –" Daddy points to himself "-parent-" then points to me "-offspring."

"Does that make you the…_on_spring?"

"Aw no," the response comes out like a guttural growl. "That joke deserves to burn in the fires of Hades."

I laugh before I can think to stop it and get back to the original conversation point. "She's antsy," I groan. "He won't stop _moving _long enough for me to fall asleep."

"They do that," Daddy shrugs.

"Have you felt him kick, yet?"

His eyes widen and he sets the bottle down on the bedside table as it dawns on him that the answer is, no, he actually hasn't. "Pregnant women don't like random people touching their stomachs."

My father is ridiculous. I laugh at him and reach for his hand, telling him just how silly that notion is. "You aren't a random person, you're my father. I promise it isn't that weird, se-"

But he jerks his hand away before I can place it on my growing baby bump. "Wait! I…I…pregnant people freak me out."

I raise an eyebrow and snort at him. "You've dealt with at least five pregnant women in your life," and I take the liberty of listing them off. "You had to of been old enough to remember your mom being pregnant with your brother, I know for a fact that you've done the diddle with Mom and Raewyn while they were pregnant, you were _in the delivery room _for two of Ceceila's babies, and then there's your pregnant teenage daughter so that makes five. How can they freak you out, you're cool as a cucumber!"

"Firstly, why don't you just say 'had sex' instead of 'did the…' whatever. Secondly, I don't mind being _around _pregnant people, I just…the moving around thing is…freaky."

"You've no excuses," I scowl. "I'm the one carrying this little guy. How do you think I feel? Now put your big girl panties on and," I grab his hand before he can jerk it away again and force in over my baby bump. As if knowing she's got an audience, the baby kicks for him, and I'm quite surprised when he flinches but doesn't pull his hand away.

Expressions ranging from surprise, to disgust, to something resembling happiness flash across his face. "Still freaky," he mumbles, slowly pulling his hand away. "So you're, um," he coughs. "Keeping it?"

"I don't know yet," I say truthfully. "Maybe, because that is what it looks like right now. What are my options? Keep it, or give it up to come Capitol family who will teach him or her that the Games are right, and that District people like us are dirty, filthy barbarians? But…hm…I don't know, I don't."

"You have time to decide," he says, getting up to leave. "I just came to check on you. And to tell you we will be in 11 in an hour. Make sure you are ready, I'd suggest brushing your hair."

"Noted," I mumble, pressing a pillow over my head so I can attempt to sleep.

~.*~.*~.*

My Victory Tour was two years ago, but I like to think that after two years, my memories would be fairly fresh. If I am not an amnesiac, how is it that I do not remember 11 being this heavily guarded? I know from Chaff that the Peacekeepers in his home District are nothing to shake a stick at, but last time I was here, the only marked difference from 12 I noticed was the number of them.

District 11 today is nothing like two years ago. Past the open fields of dairy cattle is a fence rising at least thirty-five feet high topped with large, tight curls of barbed wire and interspersed near-evenly along the length of the fences are armed watchtowers. The machine guns hanging out of the windows are unlike any I have ever seen, and are probably so heavy they are bolted into the floor. Steel plates rest at the base of the fence, clearly indicating that there was, is, and never will be a way out.

"That's something different," Peeta mummers to Katniss.

Effie says something about them making sure to keep ahold of their cards. I presume that she means the ones with the Capitol-approved speeches that I already know they will not adhere to; I know I didn't.

Rows of crops stretching as far as the eye can see come to view. This, I remember. People off all ages don straw hats and long sleeves to protect themselves from the sun's rays, and briefly, they stop working to watch the train pass. There are orchards nearby, barely visible on the horizon, and rows of pitiful shacks that are more dilapidated than anything I have seen in The Seam. Chaff has mentioned, more than once, that part of the reason people never bothered with even the simplest DIY housecare, is that people are only home long enough to sleep, and on good days, eat.

The train takes longer than I remember it taking two years ago to make it to the train station. I hear Peeta marvel at the sheer size of it. None of us can even give an estimate regarding the population. _District 11 is one of the largest districts, _is all we learned in school. Annual reapings are usually a good place to start when estimating population, and if 11's reaping crowd is any indication, they have at least triple the number of people 12 has, just more than 8 and 7, about as many as 9 and 2, and just less than 4 and train comes to a halt and Effie orders our newest victors back to their compartments for last minute camera prep and a group of Peacekeepers come to escort my father and I from the train. This year, instead of standing on the stage with the other victors, my father and I will be watching the speeches from a screen inside of the Justice building, and 11s victors will be watching from another screen in a different room. Despite the entire collection of living victors not being paraded onscreen this year, their physical presence is still required in one form or another. Hopefully – no, undoubtedly – Chaff and my father will find some way to meet up if even just to say hello and exchange one raunchy joke. Hardly anybody, even the Peacekeepers, would care about two old drunks socializing, especially if they _are _drunk. This year, at least my father will be sober, but I have the utmost faith in his acting ability.

The families of the fallen tributes are featured, as per usual, by screens displaying the faces of their lost children. My stomach knots as I remember the faces I saw in this district, Elina Herb and…I do not even remember the boy's name. Sometimes, I even have to remind myself of my allies' names, and they are the reason I am alive. Colton Cotton, Zayna Code, Asia Hedvigg, and Zephyr Polyoxl of Districts 9 and 3 must not be forgotten. I wish I could be colder and forget them, because then, I could have pretended that none of those other kids had families that loved them and homes to return to.

I have to turn away from A the screen, I can't look at it a second longer. I still hear. Katniss goes overboard when talking about the fallen tributes, how she loved Rue, how Thresh saved her life, and then, the unthinkable. A four-note tune is vaguely recognize as Rue's from the arena sounds from somewhere in the crowd and an old man in overalls and a red shirt raises three fingers in the air just as I look back to the screen. The crowd, in unison, raises their fingers in an identical gesture, and when my father swears and shakes his head, I know this is bad.

Chaos ensues. Peacekeepers force Katniss and Peeta inside the Justice Building, a bullet it sent through the old man's head, his body is dragged away unceremoniously and cast aside like garbage.

We leap from our seats and run to the door to look for our victors. In the pandemonium , I lose my father in the mess of Peacekeepers and attendants inside the Justice Building. They pay no mind to me as I wander around, frantic, desperate to find my father. Out of earshot of any Peacekeepers, at the end of a hall, I hear voices, whispers, familiar whispers.

"_What are they going to do?"_

"_Chaff, calm. Down."_

"_This is bad, this is real, real…good. Bad. No. Hades on ice,'s both! Good for us eventually but…"_

"_Our cause, yes. The anger is boiling over but we haven't the means to fi-"_

"Ch-Chaff? Seeder?"

The voices stop and there is total silence until a boot-clad foot slides from around the corner and towards me. Chaff Baakari, thank goodness, stands before me. I don't hesitate to embrace him like a favorite uncle. I cling to him until I feel his muscles relax into the embrace.

"Girlie, what are you doin' here? Why ain't you with your dad?"

"I lost him," I say, my heart racing. "There were Peacekeepers running around the entire building. We were trying to find Katniss and Peeta and we were separated."

"We'll help you find him. Stay close, though," Seeder says.

"What were you talking about?" I ask. "If it's private, you don't have to tell me…but it sounded…what cause? "

They're both frozen. Few things can throw a victor, but few victors are as good at acting as my father is. Asking that question was straying into forbidden territory, and now that I've entered it, there can be no going back.

Chaff is the first to find the words to say. "You should really ask your father."

"He won't tell me anything," I say. "After the Games last year, he…he said something about…about his involvement in something. He said that if he was found out, he'd be executed, and for my safety, he isn't telling me. I have a feeling you were discussing the same thing he was hinting at. Tell me. Please?"

"No," Chaff shakes his head. "I am one of the people tryin' to convince Haymitch to tell you the truth. He needs to tell you, but his instinct is to protect you. He doesn't understand that keepin' you in the dark ain't helpin' nothin'. Best way to be protectin' you, I said, was by bein' straight honest. He wasn't hearin' none of that, and if I was at liberty to tell you for him…but your daddy is my friend and I ain't goin' about his wishes when it comes to his little girl."

"Chaff," I plead. "They _shot _that man and gunshots have been going off since. This is big, tell me what's going on. Keeping me in the dark isn't going to protect me, you say? Then you'll be interested to know I'm in quite a pickle," I say, referring to my pregnancy. As far I know the only people outside of 12 who know are Finnick, Mags, and our friends in District 9.

"Oh?" Chaff is skeptical, he doesn't think that there is anything he can hear that will change his mind.

I don't need to say it out loud, only gesture to the evidence and pull my dress so that it exposes the outline of the very thing I am trying to hide. Seeder bites her lip and Chaff gasps, rendered speechless. They understand.

"How…?" Chaff trails off.

"Six months…about."

"I still won't tell you," Chaff says. "If it were Miranda I would be furious with Haymitch for tellin' her. But Ever, you badger your father about it, and you do not shut up 'til he tells you 'zactly what you wanna know, and that is all I am able to say on the matter."

I give up the argument mostly because I understand where he is coming from. I am not his daughter and this is not his decision to make.

"All right," I say. "Now, how do we go about finding him?"

* * *

_Haymitch…_

"There they are," I say to Ever, puzzled when I get no response. "Ever?"

I look over my shoulder and notice she isn't there. At all. The color drains from my face as I peer over the banister. Downstairs, are Effie and the stylists to keep an eye on the young victors. Without wasting another second I turn around and run the opposite direction in search of her. I barely get fifty feet from the banister before I see her rounding the corner with Chaff and Seeder.

Thank goodness, I mutter under my breath. That could have ended a lot worse.

"Haymitch," Chaff's usually cheery baritone is graver than it should be. "Tell her. Now I ain't sayin' you need to do it right now, but it needs doin'. Keepin' her out, keepin' her in the dark? More than ever, she needs to be careful. You can't expect her to do that without knowin'."

"Chaff," I hiss in warning.

"Too late," Seeder says. "She heard Chaff and I talking," she nods to Chaff, suggesting they leave the Justice Building through another exit. "See you in the Capitol. Third Qull, right? Joy."

"The room I told you about," Chaff says slowly. "It's still safe. Helluva lot of walking, but safe."

I nod to them and shoot Chaff a glare. "I thought you would stay close," I hissed, leading Ever down the stairs to join the others.

She huffs and opens her mouth to explain herself but I shush her.

"Haymitch!" Katniss and Peeta say in unison.

"You three," I glare at the kids. "With me."

They follow me and leave the others behind. Peacekeepers inside the Justice Building pay us no mind, mostly because they're eager to run outside and shoot innocent District citizens. I lead them to the marble staircase Ever and I had just ran down and past half a dozen doors before I spot the room prepared for us. Their evening clothes hang from racks; this is the room we are to stay in, until we hear otherwise. Too bad I don't follow rules.

"Microphones," I mouth to the hatchlings of the victor circle. "Now."

Katniss gets the message clearly, and Peeta understands once he sees Katniss tears off her mic and give it to me. I stuff them beneath a couch cushion and wave the kids on. I lead them up through a maze of twisted staircases, ridiculously narrow hallways, and force open the occasional door. Eventually, I find the entrance to the room Chaff told me about. I stare at the ladder a moment and ask Ever if she can climb it.

Bad move, Abernathy.

"I'm not a damn invalid," she hisses, and I don't bother to snap at her for her language.

We climb the ladder, I force open the trapdoor. The old fool was right about this room; we are inside of the Justice Building's dome. Dust coats everything: old furniture, rusted weapons, books that are probably now banned, a poster for a 2012 election whose candidate's surname ended in –AMA, remnants of an old, prosperous society. I kick the trapdoor shut, sending dust flying. Ever coughs.

"What happened?" I ask as if I don't already know.

Peeta fills Ever and I in on the whistle, the salute, and the murder. "What's going on, Haymitch?"

Oh, this should be good. "It will be better coming from you," I tell Katniss, knowing full well that it will horrible no matter who the boy hears it from.

Katniss's face shows that she disagrees with me but she tells him anyway, omitting nothing and even mentioning things that are news to me. She tells him of President Snow, unrest in the districts, apparently she kissed Gale, we're all doomed, blah, blah, blah, berries, blah. "I was supposed to fix things on this tour Haymitch! I had to convince him, I didn't mean for anybody to die I just-"

"Calm down sweetheart," I ignore the tinge of –jealousy? – on Ever's face. "Convince who?"

"Snow! I was supposed to convince everyone who doubted that we are actually in love, I was supposed to calm things down but all I did was get people killed."

Ever is surprised at some of this, but I know my daughter. Surely she has deduced some of this information by her observations.

"Then I made things worse, too. By giving the money," and suddenly, he strikes at an old, dusty lamp sitting on a crate and sends it flying across the room. It shatters.

"Haymitch," Katniss begs, tears streaming down her face. "Please just get us through this trip, help us through this one little trip and we can-"

I cut her off rather harshly. "This _trip? _This trip doesn't end when we get back home! You two are mentors now, just like Ever and I are. Every year for the rest of your lives they are going to rehash this star-crossed lovers deal, they are going to invade your personal lives until you die! Your life is no longer your own. Katniss. They. Own. You! They own all of us."

Ever coughs to catch their attention and gestures to her body. "Yes, hello, property of the Capitol here. You think District 12 is the end of the road? Sorry honey, you're mistaken."

"Nobody asked you!" Katniss snaps, looking like she could kill the younger girl.

"I don't care," Ever growls. "See this? Yeah, this is your future, so I hope you have a thing for middle-aged men…oh, but wait, you're _taken_ and everyone knows it, so I highly doubt they'll turn you into a whore so that means…oh. Oh! _Oh, I see! _You'll have to marry Peeta! At some point, one way or another, you're going to marry him and spend the rest of your life sucking up to the Capitol gushing about how grateful you are that they spared not only you, but your _beloved husband_ and any child you have is going to be put on the from cover of every trashy gossip rag imaginable before they can even talk. My father? Get you through this trip? Please. This is your life, now. Sooner or later you are going to have to admit that to yourself, and I get that you hate me, but trust me when I say that sooner is better than later."

Katniss glares at Ever, Ever returns the glare, and Peeta clears his throat. "Haymitch," he says angrily. "This has to stop, this thing with the three of you? You tell each other things and you keep me in the dark. After all we've been through, Katniss, in the arena, don't I rate the truth from you?"

"Peeta," I say quietly. "You're always so reliably good. So smart about how you present yourself before the cameras. I didn't want to disrupt that."

"Well," he snorts. "You overestimated me. I royally screwed up today. Those families will be lucky if they survive the day!" Peeta throws something else, I don't see what, and it shatters like the lamp.

"He's right, Daddy."

"We were wrong," Katniss says. "Even in the Capitol."

"Even in the arena, you had a system worked out, didn't you?" his voice is quiet now. "Something I wasn't privy to."

"No. Not officially. I could just tell what Haymitch wanted me to do by what he sent, or didn't send," Katniss says.

"Well, I never had that opportunity. Because he never sent me anything until you showed up," Peeta says.

"Look, boy –" I begin.

"Don't bother, Haymitch. I know you had to choose one of us. And I'd have wanted it to be her. But this is something different. People are dead out there. More will follow unless we're good, and I mean _very, very good. _We all know I'm better than Katniss in front of the cameras. No one needs to coach me on what to say. But I have to know what I'm walking into."

"From now on, you'll be fully informed," I promise. Ever glares at me as if to ask, what about me? "You and I, we will talk later," I tell her and turn my attention once again to Peeta. "You'll know everything, from now on, Peeta."

"I better," he doesn't even bother to look at Katniss before he leaves.

Katniss's voice fills the silence after he's left. "Did you two choose me?"

"Yes," I say, and Ever gives no response.

"Why? You like him better."

"You're right about that," I laugh mirthlessly. "But remember, before the rule change, I could only get one of you out alive. I thought that between the four of us," I gesture to Ever to emphasize her role in it. Katniss easily forgets Ever's role in the 74th Games. "We might be able to bring you home."

"Oh."

"You'll understand someday," Ever says quietly. "The choices he has to make aren't easy."

Katniss scowls "You've only been a victor for two years, how would you know?"

Ever's face hardens and in an alarmingly calm voice, asks the older girl if she has ever heard a grown man scream, cry, and beg for forgiveness in his sleep. "I have," Ever says, sending a glare my direction before kicking open the trapdoor and descending the ladder.

"She's right," I say. "If we survive this, you'll learn. And I'm sorry. Come on, we've got a dinner to attend."

~.*~.*~.*

Two and a half glasses of whiskey aren't enough to prepare me for the train ride that night. I hide in my compartment avoid my daughter and tell myself that it is to avoid upsetting her, though, truthfully, I'm being selfish.

Footsteps in the hallway. Heavy, angry footsteps. I'd not of heard them otherwise. She wants me to hear them. The door will open in three…two…

"Sure Peeta, I'll tell you everything you want to know," Ever says in a mocking tone. "But Ever? Nah, I keep secrets from your _for your own good!_"

"Don't you use that tone with me, young lady," I stand, in full dad mode, and point a finger at her.

"Young lady," Ever snorts. "I'm so scared. When are you going to stop treating me like I'm some stupid, defenseless child?"

"When you stop acting like one, Ever Elizabeth!" I roar, and immediately regret it. The look of hurt that comes across her face tears my heart in two. I never want to see it again. "Everything I tell and don't tell you is for you, for your own protection."

"Oh, so two random kids that aren't even yours get total honesty, but your daughter doesn't."

"Ever," our voices have to be kept barely audible, we're half-whispering, half-mouthing, with occasional gesturing thrown in. "Ever, this is different; these are two entirely different issues we are talking about. Sweetheart, what I am keeping from you is something that I will be executed for if I am found out – do you think I want _you _involved in something like that?"

For a moment, it is Rose's kicked-puppy eyes, not Ever's looking at me. "Do _you _think I want you involved in something like that? Did you not think of me before you became involved with this, with whatever _this _is? What would I do without you, if you were found out?"

"I was," I say. "You were the only thing on my mind when I agreed to this. You were a year old, I was holding you."

"Tell me what it is, Daddy! You can't protect me from everything, you know that by now, and what good is keeping this from me if it can get you killed? Shouldn't I know what it is you're dying for? Even the faintest, tiniest thing about it?"

"They can hurt you to get to me," I shake my head. "They know that you are the only person on this planet that they can use to absolutely break me. Sweetheart, the less you know, the safer you are. The less you know, the better we can protect you."

My mistake goes unnoticed on my part until it is too late to correct it. Ever catches it, though. The one time I want her to miss something, she catches it, naturally.

"What do you mean…_we?_"

"Other people who love you and care about you are involved, and we have shot down numerous attempts that others have made to convince us to let you in this plan. You are special to these other people, Ever, and you are the most important thing to me. My job is to protect you. This is the best way I know how," I reach out to her, to hug her, but she backs away.

"Tell me," she mouths. "Daddy, if you're willing to die for it…so am I."

"Ev-"

She shushes me by holding up her palm and covers her face with her other. Her body shakes, she is crying silently. When she slides her hand off of her face, her face and eyes are red. "What would I do without my dad? Do you have…any idea…how scared I've been since the train ride home, since you _hinted _at this thing? And then we get home and I find out about little nameless-mystery-gender over here, and next thing I know there are uprisings in the districts and then this shooting in 11…Daddy, _please. _What is going on?"

"You should sit down, you're upset and stressed and, with your, um…"

"I'm _pregnant_, not glass! Tell me."

"Sweetheart, I love you, but I can't."

Stubborn like her parents, Ever wipes her tears with the sleeve of her pajamas and stands her ground. "If you are willing to die for it, I am, too."

"You've said that."

Ever approaches me for a hug. Haymitch Abernathy is a weak man when his daughter is in involved; I can't turn it down. "I know. You love me, a lot. We're closer than most parents and children are, you always drop everything and take care of me when I need you to, you're always there, always ready to be my dad...if something is that important to you, that you are willing to die, it has to be something big. Give me one sentence, two sentences about what it is. Don't tell me any major details, just give me a very, very, basic picture."

"Sweetheart," I argue halfheartedly.

"Daddy. Please."

Defeated, I agree to tell her, and I hate myself for it. "Ever, there is a plot to overthrow the current regime, and your dad is one of the main conspirators. Victors, Capitol socialites, some mayors, select Peacekeepers, some heads of the District forces, people in charge of the industries, even a few Gamemakers are in on it. Your only job is to not breathe a word. To anybody. Your job is to forget this conversation."

Going on fifteen full years of it being just the two of us, Ever and I know each other perhaps a little too well. We can have entire conversations through lip-reading, noncommittal noises, improvised hand motions, and changes in our body language. Using those methods, everything after her "two random kids" statement has been in our odd kind of shorthand. We know each other too well, but frankly, I am glad we do.

Ever nods slowly at first, then quickly, then mumbles a yes. "I…I understand. My job is also to not ask questions, correct?"

"Mm hm. Also, whenever I tell you to do something and I sound very serious about it? I expect to be obeyed, it's only for-"

"-my own protection," she finishes, a smile on her face. She is worried, terrified, but smiling.

"Everything I do is to protect you. You are all I have."

"No," she giggles. "I _was _all you had. You love Katniss and Peeta, too, and don't deny it. I see how you look at them because it's exactly how you look at me."

* * *

There will be...1-3 more Victory Tour chapters. There will be an entire chapter for District 4, and District 9 will have a feature, but the rest of the Districts will be quickly summarized, and of course, the Capitol will be it's own chapter. Actually, I can probably fit the rest of the tour into 2 chapters. One for Districts 10-1 and make it a long chapter, and then Capitol.


	93. Wicked World

**Wicked World**

* * *

_And don't be afraid of the Big Bad Wolf, _

_He's just a sheep underneath those teeth_

_And don't be afraid of the Wicked Witch_

_She ain't so bad, she ain't no bitch_

_~Laura Jansen "Wicked World"_

* * *

_Haymitch..._

"Daddy, Daddy wake up," Ever whispers as she kicks the bed. "We're almost in 9, we have two hours to get ready."

I mumble into the pillow, something about it being too early and a string of expletives, and pull the blankets further over my head.

"Fine," Ever mumbles, grabbing my hand and – no, no, not that god-awful feeling of-

Telling her that pregnant people freak me out was a stupid decision, because now she can use it against me. I'm too lethargic to register where she put my hand until I feel the baby kick. I swear under my breath and slowly move to sit up.

"See? It's a bit stronger than it has been before, is that supposed to happen?"

"Mm hm, baby's moving and growing. Good observation," I mumble with a bit of a bite.

I feel her frown before I see it. "It's a big deal."

"I'm sorry," I apologize and motion for her to sit on the other side of the bed. "I forgot how excited Rose was when you were –" words either escape me or I've become too lazy to form them and I wave my hand in a nonspecific, senseless gesture. "-you know. That is great, sweetheart. Are you feeling better about it all?"

"Yes," she says. "I just hope I can be as great a parent as you are."

"Sweetheart, I wish I was half the man you thought I was," I mumble and yawn. "It's too early in the morning for a conversation this serious."

Ever seems almost offended. "You are amazing, you brought me up all by yourself and I can never thank you enough for all that you've done," Ever hugs me and damn near makes me tear up with this last bit. "He's going to have the best grandad that a kid could ask for."

"You hush yourself; don't be tellin' lies. And goodness, don't let her call me grandpa."

"What can he call you?"

"Haymitch, for all I care, and I'm sure he's a she."

"Oh?"

"I've never guessed a baby wrong before," I say, winking at her. "I knew you'd be a beautiful little girl."

"That first adjective is debatable."

"No, it isn't," I say, with that final yawn between barely awake and awake-as-you-can-be.

"I'm scared," Ever whispers, leaning against my shoulder.

"You are going to be just fine, we all are, I promise."

She isn't convinced. "I read somewhere that age affects what can happen during labor, that it's dangerous to be young like me."

I swallow and am silent for a short time because it is true; age can be a factor in what happens during childbirth. Even Rose was in a tricky age range, having had Ever at 18. Granted, no matter the age, every woman's experiences with labor are unique but the risk of complications does increase within certain age ranges. The most pressing concern I have had since my daughter discovered her pregnancy is how her body will handle childbirth in hopes that it would go well.

Ever's small hand covers mine and she turns her head so that she's staring at the ceiling. "What if something bad happens?"

"It won't," I say with finality and refusing to even entertain the thought of something happening to Ever. She's been through so damn much, the universe owes her this one.

She smiles a little and pushes her messy brown hair from her eyes. "I am going to go get dressed. You should do the same before Effie's the one hounding you."

* * *

_Ever…_

As the train nears District 9 and I finish up eating, Effie rattles on about interesting facts about 9 that she surely had drilled into her head, some of which were wrong, but most of which lined up with what Raewyn and Eri have told me. I am not paying attention to the fun facts, not on purpose at least, and try to finish what it on my plate before we get to 9.

In her excitement over something, Effie accidentally kicks my chair, and the force is enough to move me so that I drop the fork I am using onto the floor. I smile at her and tell her not apologize when she begins to and move to bend down.

Peeta hurriedly swallows the food in his mouth and shakes his head as he, too, bends down. "No, no, I'll get it," he flashes me the same friendly smile he wears for everybody and offers me the fork. "But it's been on the floor, I'm not sure if-" momentarily, he pauses when I take it and eat with it anyway "-well, I suppose you could always use it anyway."

I smile at the blond and shrug. "You know," I say, rolling my eyes. "I find it ridiculous that it is more socially acceptable to put somebody else's genitals in your mouth than it is to eat with a fork that's been on the floor for a total of 2.2 seconds."

Peeta's face grew a tad red at my overt reference to sex acts, but the initial shock didn't stop him from laughing until he was laughing so hard that no sound came out and he was just sitting there clapping like a seal.

"That's good, that was actually funny," he said, composing himself.

"The hell do you mean that was _actually_ funny – what, my jokes are usually unamusing? Peeta," I feign offense. "I am wounded. Fuck you, I'm hilarious."

"Well," he chuckles, polishing off his meal. "I haven't heard you make jokes very often."

"Then you, dear sir, are in for a miserable few decades. This victor business? Yeah, you and Katniss are in it with me for life. There are shitty jokes and bad puns galore," I pause, grab the last piece of meat from his plate, and smirk. "You may want to learn how to properly guard your plate; most of us victors have the same your-food-is-my-food mindset as I do."

Effie makes a comment about how uncouth it is for a lady of such 'high-society upbringing' to act so unrefined, although this particular dig sounds borderline affectionate. For a Capitol citizen Effie Trinket isn't all that bad. The woman is infuriatingly difficult to deal with but is a walk in the park compared to the men. At least she is mostly well-intentioned.

I button up my long coat over my belly and shortly after the train comes to a halt. My father appears freshly shaven and neater than usual to give our new victors a final warning to stick to the script and the five of us exit the train where a detail of District-assigned Peacekeepers is waiting for us, loaded guns in their hands, but not held in a threatening manner. We're lead through the streets of 9, eerily familiar to me from my tour. Residents who have found themselves running a little late to the ceremony quicken their pace upon seeing our armed escorts.

The baby moves and I widen my eyes in the irrational fear that people around me can _sense_ his movements and know she's there. My father isn't looking at me but he has always had this sixth sense for me and laces his fingers with mine and squeezes lightly before quickly releasing. In little ways, my father has always shown he cares, and sometimes those mean more than the big gestures because they show he cares all the time and not just when it's convenient or will stop my crying.

I follow our peacekeepers into the justice building while Katniss and Peeta are led to the stage and try to make myself comfortable in the viewing room but the baby and my bladder will have none of it. At first, I think it's possible to wait until before our meal, but after ten minutes sitting in there without the speeches even having started, I stand to leave the room and a peacekeeper grabs my shoulder when I take two steps forward.

"Sit," he demands.

"I have to pee," I say bluntly.

"Hold it," he's rather unsympathetic.

"I think I just started my period," I lie, if only he knew how laughably untrue that was. "So unless you want to soak this place with my uterus liquid I suggest you tell me where the nearest toilet is."

"I'll escort you," says the second peacekeeper.

I hold up my hand to stop him from grabbing my arm and firmly decline. "I am a big girl and I have not fallen into a toilet bowl since my father was potty training me. Kindly tell me the way and I will walk myself there and back."

The first peacekeeper reluctantly tells me the way and informs me that if I am not back in an acceptable amount of time he will send somebody after me. Sure, whatever, at least I get to pee. Straight down the hall, a left turn, double doors on the left, down the hall, more double doors, another hall, and a right turn later and I'm at one of the building's bathrooms. I linger inside the stall longer than is necessary because I like having the liberty to leave my jacket unbuttoned and on the floor. Although it was my decision to keep the pregnancy under wraps and hidden from the public eye, wearing baggy layers was quite suffocating even in the cold of late winter and early spring.

I pull my sleeve back to glance at my watch – it's been ten minutes – it's about time I return. I'm not even entirely out of the bathroom when something collides with my head, bounces off, and falls to the floor with a light _crunch! _

"Dammit," a familiar whisper says.

The owner of the whisper appears from behind a plant to the right of the bathroom's entry and they are quick to offer up an apology.

"Sweetie, I was aiming for your shoulder, but balls of paper aren't exactly as precise as knives," said the victor who had taken down several tributes in her Games by throwing knives at them.

"Raewyn! My gosh, am I glad to see you," I run over to her and hug her. "Victors aren't supposed to be socializing this year."

"The mayor and I go way back; even if we didn't, it's your birthday, well it almost is, and I promised you Eri and I would give you gifts somehow," she kisses my forehead and returns my hug.

"You didn't have to," I say, but I take the small wrapped items she offers me anyway and stuff them inside coat pockets.

"We wanted to, and also," her eyes dart a little downward, to my carefully concealed belly, and she smiles sadly. "You seemed so afraid last time we talked. I had to see if you were any better. I also promised that, didn't I?"

She did.

"Here," she takes my hand and pulls me into a room near the bathrooms. "If we're quick nobody will find us."

"I would have thought you would try to kidnap my father," I tease.

She snorts laughter and says "That's later, but frankly, you're more important."

I am well accustomed to the men in my life doting on me and putting me high on their priorities list, but a woman, especially one with plenty of her own children, and one who has taken over care of Eri and her blind sister after their parents bailed, is still strange to me. She has enough to worry about and why she would voluntarily add me to her list of burdens is beyond me but it's also humbling.

:-:

"How do I know if something's wrong?"

Raewyn smiles and grabs my hand. "You'll know," she promises. "If something hurts worse than normal, if something feels wrong, then something probably is."

"Katniss's mom says I'm due around The Games, I've seen people that pregnant who can't leave bed…but as much as I hate to admit, I'd like to give birth in the Capitol for the better medical care, you know? But if I get put on bed rest then I wouldn't be able to travel, would I?"

"You know your father would disobey physicians' orders in a heartbeat if it was what you wanted."

"Yeah," I shrug and crack my knuckles. "I'm afraid of what'll happen to her. Him. Whatever. R-Rae, will –" -iam raped me more than once and our children might be half-siblings. " – will the Capitol want to parade my baby around like me?"

"You baby is the child and grandchild of two victors, so I think it's unavoidable."

My face pales because I had not even thought about her being the descendant of not one victor, but two victors, and all of the implications of that fact. Of course he'll be reaped after she's of age, of course, because how _fantastic _would that be if a family had three generations of Hunger Games victors?

Being an Abernathy is a death sentence at best and a lifetime sentence at worst. My father has known this for years, and the evidence has been staring me in the face for years but I've been too stupid to see it.

Of course.

"No, no Raewyn, not…not my…they're going to be lucky to make it to their thirteenth birthday, aren't they?"

"Sweetie, I didn't mean to upset you, f-forget I said – "

"But you're right, you're right and she…he…she's never going to be safe, or happy. Is he?"

"Ever," Raewyn tries to fix it, but loud footsteps in the hallway bring our conversation to an abrupt end.

I'm able to slip out of the room without the peacekeepers seeing me and sneak down the hallway back to the room we're supposed to be in. I arrive in time to catch the last twenty seconds of the dry and rehearsed victory speeches.

My father can tell I'm even less okay than I was five minutes ago, but he doesn't say a word, only grabs my hand. Honestly, that is world's more comforting than his words ever can be.

I suppose my father sees Raewyn at some point during the following twenty-four hours we spend in District Nine; there's a three hour time period where I couldn't find him anywhere, good for him.

As the train pulls away from the station, I groan, because I have to go through four districts full of victors I don't care about until I get a chance to see the one I really want to see, my hug-buddy Finnick.

I could really use one of his bear hugs right now, just one.


End file.
